


Trial of the Stubborn and Profane

by PeachesOrSilk



Series: Fatum [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anti-Hero, Blood and Gore, Eventual Smut, F/M, Humor, Modern Girl in Thedas, Romance, Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-16 18:32:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 105
Words: 357,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachesOrSilk/pseuds/PeachesOrSilk
Summary: It's up to you to decide: follow the flow of Destiny and be swallowed by its waters, or fight the current and carve your own path.***Songs of valor, melodies of sacrifice and loss: this is a hero’s eventual reward. To be a savior is to be become broken, a doll those in power will hide behind for their own ends as the ones who bled for them become tainted and ultimately forgotten once their duty is done.Akira knows this lesson well, and how such a life inevitably ends for so called ‘heroes’. Haunted and alone, no longer simply human in the eyes of those they strove so hard to protect. Will she allow herself to become as all who came before –a sword and shield without dreams of a future; or will she fight against the forces of Thedas determined to destroy the last vestiges of light Akira has struggled so stubbornly to save?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Characters, scenes, dialogue, and lore of Dragon Age are copyrighted and a licensed product of Bioware. This is a work of fiction, all rights and reserves are retained by Bioware and its affiliates.
> 
> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY THE RIDE!

Feeling exhausted, I slowly came awake; a sense of urgency mixed with, 'something's not right!', nudging at the boundaries of consciousness. Sitting up with a still sleep addled mind, I take in my surroundings as a sigh that quickly turns into a puffed raspberry escapes. _"Well...shit."_

Somewhere a part of me had held on to the slim hope that I would awaken back in the real world, or some divine figure would pop forth with a wave of their hands and decree, 'It was all a test~'.

No such luck.

Whatever, or whomever, had brought me here was having a good laugh I was sure.

The small two room house was bright and warm thanks to the fireplace that took up most of the bedroom. With curiosity I got up to check the short set of draws and chest taking up one wall. Someone had placed clothes inside, most likely finding what they could to give me. I study the attire for a moment, noticing that they may be a bit too large _, whelp_ , _beggars can't be choosers I suppose. At least I won't have to wear the same thing every day or go naked._ Pulling out the only cloak, I set it aside, knowing that it was going to be ass cold outside and I hated the cold with a passion.

Turning to the chest, I lift the lid with giddy expectation, and fully succeed -to my great disappointment, to find that it was empty save for some paper and quills. Not seeing anything else of interest in this confined space, I decided maybe exploring some of Haven was in order. The window nearby showed that it is night outside, which perhaps explained why no servant had come bumbling in to wake me. _Must have woken up early,_ I absently muse as I bundled myself in the cloak and set out into the night.

Torches line the stone streets of Haven, all eerily silent except for the chirps of the Thedas equivalent of crickets disturbing the silence -or what I fervently hope is mere crickets- and but for a few soldiers patrolling, there was not a soul in sight. I quietly moved, following a lonely path, not really having any particular destination in mind. The campfire where Varric could usually be found was unattended when I pressed forward; why such a thing surprised me I did not know, it wasn't like he lived in that particular spot.

I snort, _going to need to remember that people aren't going to be stationary and have a tendency to move around._

Continuing on, I hesitate beside the tavern, debating whether to go in. Raucous laughter and jovial yells carried through the chill of night, drowning out a soft melody of music barely heard beneath the merriment. It was tempting to join the beckoning warmth that drifted so effortlessly through the darkness, but I chose to keep going, realizing exactly where it was that I truly wanted to be.

I stand before the apothecary's and Solas' door, uncertain of what it was I had been expecting. _Duh, of course there is no one here, normal people are asleep you crazy face._

Sighing, I pivot towards the stairs once again, deciding I might as well go to the tavern since I was wide awake. The creak of a door stops me in my descent and I turn at the sound. Solas stood in the doorway, light from his room indicating he was most likely awake while still masking his face in perfect shadow. Unable to see the expression directed at me, I settle on a friendly wave and walk back to see where this might lead.

_Gotta initiate things sooner or later. I need to be able to converse with people and know what's going on. Out of everyone he seems the most likely to enjoy educating people and I can ask 'innocent' questions at the same time. Two birds, one stone..._

He came to meet me halfway and I am relieved to see that it's more puzzlement and intrigue then anything on his face. When his gaze fully met mine -probably wondering why the little mogwai was searching for him, I realized something. _Wait...how do I initialize this? I can't really say 'hey teach me!'_

_"Wow, did not think this through...."_ Biting my lip I try to think of some way to get across what I wanted when my eyes fall upon a small bush next to the stairs. _"AH HA!"_

Excitedly I snap a tiny branch and kneel down on one knee in front of Solas, gesturing that he should follow suit. Being severely limited due to my artistic skills -or horrendous lack-thereof, I quickly draw a simple tree. Pointing at the blobish design, _"tree,"_ in the hopes he will catch on. Not the smartest thing to come to me, but hey, I will take what I can get at this point.

With interest he repeats back to me in Thedas Common. I scratch more doodles and even point to some things that are around us as we maintain this back and forth, all the while I'm certain he is absorbing the English thrown at him.

After a few minutes Solas gives me a 'wait' gesture and disappears into his home.

_Bet he is loving teaching the little mogwai. I can just imagine 'Solas Slightly Approves' appearing above his head._ I chuckle to myself. _Have to enjoy the irony of him teaching the none person how to speak. Probably wants to question the mogwai that has his power, it's got to be driving him nuts._

When he comes out again he moves to sit on the stone steps, patting the space next to him. In his hand are paper, ink, and quill. He draws for me and writes the word matching it with confident, beautiful strokes. With each picture he voices the word for my benefit, allowing me to hear the pronunciation. Halfway down the first page, I stop him and gesture to the quill and hold up two fingers. Realizing what I wanted after I repeat the movement again, he brings another quill for me.

I pull a blank page from the stack on his lap and write in English what the picture is and how I think the word sounds. Lastly I add a page number so I can make them correspond to what Solas is writing. He seems infinitely fascinated by my serial-killer-chicken-scratch and I thank god he has nothing to compare it too.

Through the evening men and women came and went from the tavern to seek their beds or perhaps more entertainment. We ignored any whispers directed our way and the scarcely veiled glances of those passerbyers who believed we would not notice, instead staying as we were like this late into the night. As the bitter nip of darkness gave way, and gentle haze of morning grew near, my mind and eyes drifted to the man who attentively sat beside me.

I notice his hands, now ink stained but still striking in their bone structure. With long digits and palms surprisingly large and yet are still able to create such delicate beauty. I wonder how they might feel against my own -rough and callused, or perhaps somehow they had been able to retain some of their softness? Regardless, I was certain that my hands would be dwarfed if I was ever granted the opportunity to hold them.

My eyes continue their idle wandering and end up studying the perfect, angular face that was mere inches from my own. The lines of a jaw that are sharp, and the fullness of lips that slightly pinch in concentration draw me. Eyes a dazzling shade of grey-blue, alit with enjoyment and a hint of tiredness, focus on the paper before him, and I find I quite appreciate the sight.

A particularly loud guffaw from the tavern jolts me from my observation. Giving a firm mental shake, I remind myself, _Dude, he's not real! Calm your tits, nothing can come from it. He is a fictional character and it's just weird to think otherwise! Besides he's kinda the reason that shit is fucked up in this world. Plus, he doesn't see people as people, they're basically mogwai to him....._

That thought brings me up short, and with a grumpy, displeased expression that I cannot suppress, I squint at him. _Wait....does this make me Solas?_ At that particular idea, my inner self practically falls to their knees and throws their hands to the Heavens, all the while yelling a resounding, 'nooooooo'.

_That sounds like I think of these guys like Solas does of modern Thedas...Nope, totally different my man, you're the byproduct of someone's brain tickles. We are not the same in that regard._

Having noticed the lack of feedback, Solas turns to me and most certainly caught the look leveled on him. No doubt believing it was directed at myself for my lack of knowledge and fatigue, he calls a halt. He handed me the pages we had been working on and takes the leftover supplies. Awkwardly I thank Solas, and having learned at least how to say farewell, we bid each other goodnight.

Worn out I make my way back to the house I awoke in, all the while leisurely flipping through my new learning materials.

Once back inside, I take off as much as I dare, not liking that I have to wear clothes to sleep since I prefer the nude, but unwilling to chance someone busting in while I'm in my birthday suit. As I lay in bed one last thought intrudes, _I need to watch myself. Ogling attractive elves is not good, especially since I have to outwit them. I can't let feelings interfere, it could mean my downfall otherwise. Just need to remind myself that he's not real, he's a game character...Shouldn't be too difficult._

_....Yeah, cuz it's going soooo well so far. HA! Fat chance, sucker!_ My brain decided to add before sleep finally claimed me.

~~~

A sound or possibly the change in temperature woke me with a start. I spring up, my lizard brain deciding to go straight to 'ASSASSIN!'.

"AHHH!" The elven woman falls to the floor in obvious fright and buries her head in her hands. It takes a second for me to put together that this is a servant and not a random assassin coming to get me. Blinking a few times at the hilarity of someone being scared to me, I laugh and motion for her stand when she gawks up at me.

_"I'm...wait...uh..._ sorry? _I think that's right."_ Attempting to ease her fear.

A gasp soon accompanies my apology. "So it's true! You were touched by Andraste. " She drops to her knees, not looking at me but at the floor. "Lady, I ask for your forgiveness for startling you and your blessing."

Thinking I had mixed up the word I walk over to the desk to search through my notes. I find the right page and sure enough, it was right. Bewildered I twist around to repeat it again when she comes to me with my discarded clothes from the day before.

"Lady Cassandra will want to know you are awake. She said at once. And that you should be brought to the Chantry. Forgive me, my lady." All was said with such haste that I only caught Cassandra's name. Choosing to just go with it, I ignore the dirty clothes needing a good wash held out to me and search the draws for a clean set.

Not knowing what else to do, I strip the rest of the way and get dressed. Imagining that I'm in a woman's locker room and wishing all the while for a shower. As I had suspected they are baggy, the trousers are longer than they should be and with plenty of space at the waist to fit half a person in with me. Holding my pants up as best I could, I rummage to find a belt. None are forthcoming and I give up, instead settling with using rope. Suitably clothed, I wait for the servant to guide me to wherever I was supposed to go.  

Outside men and women have come to line the road, whispering and awing to each other as we pass. If I understood them I would have laughed in their faces and called them 'crazy bastards' for how they had decided that I had been 'touched by Andraste' to explain why I was speaking in tongue. It does not take long for me to figure out 'Herald' and 'Herald of Andraste' since it was repeated over and over during the brief march to the Chantry.

Once inside the Chantry I could breathe easier. Being in front of a crowd was not new to me but when the crowd peers at you with a mix of worship or loathing, it's just...weird and unnerving. The elf waves me to the war room at the end of the hall and hurries away like I had unleashed the hell hounds on her.

_I'm going to be optimistic and say that is not going to be a common occurrence...Yup, most definitely won't be._

The nearer I came to the war room the more I could make out the voices beyond. _Chancellor Bitch Face sounds like he's about to have a coronary._ Just to purposely mess with him I confidently open the door and step inside.

Chancellor Roderick wastes no time and points to me, clearly livid. "Chain her. I want her prepared for travel to the capitol for trial. I cannot believe you let this dangerous criminal walk free!"

Cassandra disregards his demand. "There is no need. "

"The line you cross is a dangerous one, Seeker. Are you prepared for the consequences?"

Now irritation colors her voice as she stalks to Roderick. "The Breach may be stable now, but it is still a threat. I refuse to ignore it."

"Even more reason to put her in chains! Who is to say she did not cause it herself?"

Leliana who had stood by during the exchange steps forward, voice hard with a touch of bitterness. "Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave and they were not who the Most Holy expected." She tilts her head to the side, as though she was contemplating, before continuing. "There is the possibility that they died with the others, or perhaps they have allies who yet live."

" _Me?_ Are you suggesting that I am a suspect?" Clearly affronted.

A hard glint comes to her eyes as she stares at Roderick. "Yes, and many others as well."

With a disgusted _humph,_ Roderick gestures to me, "But not this elf?"

Cassandra crosses her arms, certainty on her face. "Myself and others heard the voices in the temple, saw the vision. The Divine called to her for help."

Roderick mimics her pose before snidely remarking, "So her survival, the mark on her hand, everything is just coincidence then?"

"It's providence. The Maker knew we needed someone, she sent us a savior in our darkest hour. "

"So you would have us believe that she was chosen by the Maker?" With an angry shake of his head and a slash of his hand, "This is not for you to decide, she must be judged."

Cassandra turns to grab a book, a familiar book, and returns to the war table to slam it down hard. The clash rages between the three, none seeming to give ground. At last the chancellor leaves, having finally been ran out by Cassandra's glorious tirade.

Feeling pretty sure that they just initiated the Inquisition in Chancellor Douche Bag's face, I speak for the first time. Address the both of them, not knowing what else to say. _"I'll_ help...? _I think._ " _At least for now..._

"Yes, we would like your aid. Help us." Cassandra holds out her hand, waiting for me to decide.

Smirking I clasp her hand in a firm handshake before letting go and presenting my fist for a bump. This seems to humor her and she returns the gesture.

Assuming that business is concluded, I tip my head to them and leave the war room, allowing my feet to take me to my next thing on my 'to do list'.


	2. Chapter 2

The makeshift training yard was fuller than I would have liked for what I planned to attempt. I had no illusions that it was going to be pretty or even go semi-smoothly, and having an audience was not appealing. Despite the embarrassment that was in store for me, I find the farthest unattended dummy from the recruits.

After wrapping my hands as best I could with the spare cloth I had stashed before the meeting, I square off. I start cycling through punches, kicks, knees, and elbows to establish distance, allowing myself to relax into the rhythm. Feeling warmed up, I prepare myself for my initial test run, stubbornly paying no heed to the countless inquisitive eyes on me.

'Strands' of magic drift lazily in the air, giving the impression of waiting to be used. 'Pulling' what I assume is enough to put a little force behind it, I imagine the strands encasing my fist as I throw a jab.

The first clue that it didn't go as planned was the solid dummy under my fist. The second? The burst of flame at the base of a nearby tent and the subsequent yelps of surprise. I run over and hurriedly toss snow at the base of the flame, thankful that everything was a little wet which prevented it from spreading.

Expressions ranging from fear to irritation fall on me. I smile sheepishly, raising my hands in a placating manner. _"_ Sorry, sorry! _My bad....At least I didn't hit anyone?...Yay?"_

Heat creeping over my face and up to my ears, I go back to my spot. Not wanting to inadvertently hit a person or a tent again, I try facing a different direction. Again I center myself then punch, this time weaving the strands instead. When knuckles meet dummy I am thrown forcibly back, tumbling ass-over-end to land on my stomach with a flop.

Voice muffled by the snow, _"Fuck...Oww...."_

Feeling like I had jumped at a wall with wide open arms, I raise myself up on all fours, arms and legs shaking. Slowly exhaling, I take stock of my injuries. Other than minor bruises, wounded pride, and being a little dazed; I felt pretty good. I stand and resolutely march back.

Grins and stifled laughter taunt me as I ready for another go. Tweaking the application of the magic, I aim for the target's sternum.

An audible _oof_ passes my lips as my butt skids across the snow. Blinking to clear my head, I push to my feet. _Kinda what I was going for? Maybe?...Not really..._ Sighing heavily I prepare myself for a very long day, blatant laughter now coming from my spectators.

Becoming more than a little pissed, I mock, _HAHAHA...yeah keep laughing, we'll see how funny it is when I kick your teeth in...._

Eventually they drift away or go back to their own routines, leaving me to my own devices. The cycle of hit then wipe out, or hit and something catches fire continued until the sun began to wane and give way to dusk. By the time I finally called it quits for the day, I felt as though I had been repeatedly mauled by a bear and dragged through the dirt. Starved and extremely tender, I trudge to my room to see if food had been left there. I spot a bucket on my way and after checking to make sure it was relatively clean, filled it with fresh snow and headed inside. Setting the bucket down in front of the fire, I scan over the table, thankful to whoever was kind enough to have left bread and some type of mystery meat.

Devouring the food in short order, I eye the bucket and dejectedly accept that I would have to wait to bathe. Gathering quill and paper, along with notes from the night before, I hobble to find Solas. Varric stands before the campfire tonight, entertaining those gathered with a story no doubt. I wave and give a broad smile as I pass.

Not having made any sort of agreement to assist me again, I was happy to find Solas on the steps, as if he had been expecting me.

Gingerly I lower myself to sit, a hiss of pain escaping as muscles protest. A brow raises at me in question. Then with a shake of his head, healing magic coolly slides across my skin, gradually warming as it works its way into muscles and scrapes.

With a grateful groan I close my eyes and enjoy the simple comfort Solas' magic brings. _"Thank you_ Solas. _"_

Mood infinitely improved, I beam at Solas and gather what I'll need, attributing the slight pink of his cheeks to the cold.

Jointly we lengthen my already extensive notes, with intermittent attempts at stringing a sentence together. I regret that choice once it becomes evident I'm nowhere near ready and consistently forgetting or using the wrong words. Solas is patient with the blunders, even suppressing a smirk a time or two when they are particularly outlandish.

I can feel the session drawing to a close and I take a moment to observe him once again. During the trek up the mountain and again last night I had experienced a sense of safety and a heady rush of butterflies when I was near him. Tonight was no different. I could not pin point why my brain had fixated and generally all around took pleasure in his company. Yes he was an interesting character and I could not wait to pick his brain, but so were others and I did not react with instant trust with them. It was unsettling not knowing and having no control over it. If anything I should be even more wary, especially armed with the knowledge I did have. Instead my mind had decided that it wanted to take a vacation where he was concerned.

Coming to an end for the night, we face each other and say goodnight. Before I leave however I gesture for Solas to wait. _"_ Tomorrow? _"_ I question, not at all sure I had pronounced that correctly even though I had glanced at my notes prior to asking.

A genuine look of pride surfaced at my inquiry. "If you wish. I will be here."

With a pep in my step, I leave Solas to seek my impromptu bath. Choosing to attribute the energy to the excitement of getting out of my sweaty dirty clothes and not his voice and expression as I left.    

The snow had completely melted when I arrived, the resulting water being slightly better than room temperature having been so close to the fire. Taking out a handkerchief from the drawer, I drop it in the bucket and proceed to peel off my attire, noticing there is dried blood in some places. Not having found any soap, I settled for being able to wipe myself down.

_Would kill for a shower, or soap for that matter. No way am I going to jump in the lake outside. Guess I should be content with the whore's bath for now._ I maintain the routine dipping and scrubbing. _Apparently elves don't have body hair so at least I don't have to worry about learning how to use a dagger to shave my legs. Yay small victories._

Assuming I was as clean as I was going to get, I shove my clothes in the bucket and proceed to rinse them out as best I could. I move the bucket out of the way and pull up a chair to hang my clothes over, allowing them to dry next to the fire. Finding the discarded clothes from before, I do the same, bringing the only other chair over from the table. Dressing lightly and pulling my boots on, I go to refill the bucket with fresh snow and set it aside for tomorrow.

Relatively clean and having set up for the coming day, I sink under the covers and drift into the blissful oblivion of sleep.

~~~

Beginning the day much as I had the last, minus one freaked out servant, I head off to the training yard. The dummy that I had dubbed mine was unoccupied, and suspiciously so were the ones adjacent. Buckets of snow were also left nearby. _If I didn't know any better I would think they were trying to tell me something._

Starting off as I had yesterday, I begin my warm-ups and let my body relax into the flowing pace. Today is not a great improvement from the day before, fires, tumbling, and skidding a constant. Now at least there was less of a crowd. I am surprised when I'm interrupted by Cassandra to hand me a staff. With a firm shake of my head I decline the weapon, to which she tries to press it on me again. Stubbornly I refuse, preferring to teach myself a fighting style that better suits me.

Eventually coming to the realization that I can be very pig headed and won't change my mind, she leaves with a roll of her eyes and a disgusted snort. No one else disturbs me, only the occasional bystander comes to watch with curiosity before going about their business again.

The day passes with multiple fires put out and much brushing of dirt and snow from clothes. Inside my home I wash quickly before I collect my things to join Solas.

He waits with his own supplies and greets me as I make my way up the stairs. Before I even attempt to awkwardly sit down with my bruised body, healing magic once again soothes it all away.

This becomes my norm. For five days I would work on applying magic to hand-to-hand combat during the day, sparing time to venture horrendous attempts at conversation with my comrades. In the evenings I went to Solas for guidance, and every time without a word he would heal any injuries I received that day. Then start the lesson as though nothing had happened.

Sticking to this grueling schedule was incredibly draining. Only the knowledge of what I could face in this world and my vehement refusal to be a burden kept me from throwing my hands in the air and yelling 'Fuck it!'.

Changes could be seen here and there during those days. More men and women flocked to Haven, drawn by the story of the Herald no doubt. Leliana's ravens were constantly coming to and fro carrying who knows what kind of messages. The largest change however were the banners of the Inquisition that now waved proudly throughout Haven. Such a small thing and yet it brought a boost of moral that could be felt wherever you turned.

It was on that fifth day that my routine was broken.

I was stopped on my way to the yard by a soldier directing me to the Chantry at the behest of Cassandra.

I spot Cassandra leaning on a pillar outside the war room waiting with her arms crossed. Catching my advance, she unfurls her body. "Good your here. There are some people you should meet. They have agreed to help the Inquisition and have already proved useful." Only catching part of it, we enter the war room together.

Leliana stands patiently off to the side, partly in shadow, while the last two of my would be advisors talked amongst themselves. Everyone becomes silent on our entrance, eyeing me with particular interest.

Taking the lead, Cassandra gives a nod of acknowledgement to Cullen. "Herald, may I present Commander Cullen. He has graciously agreed to lead our Inquisition forces. There would be none better."

A weary sigh, "Such as they are. Many good soldiers were lost in the battle to hold and reach the temple. And I fear there will be many more before this is done. Regardless, I will do what I can."

"This is the lady Josephine Montilyet. She is our ambassador and chief diplomat. She will be taking care of the nobility and the matters requiring a more...delicate touch."

With a broad smile and probably thinking I would understand, "Andaran Antish'an." Josephine tells me in Elven. Not wanting to make her effort go to waste, I pretend to appreciate the greeting.

"Sister Leliana you already know of course. She is our..."

"My role involves a certain degree of..."

"Spymaster. She's our spymaster."

Lips thinning, "Yes...Tactfully put, as always, Cassandra."

Fairly confident I had it down, "Pleasure to meet you." I say, praying they would move it along since that was the extent of my introduction skills.

They're answered when Cassandra carries on, "We have discussed your mark and how to close the Breach permanently. Where there is a divide on how best to proceed, whether we ask the rebel mages to charge the mark or try to suppress the Breach using templars, we can do nothing while neither will speak to us."

Cocking her hip, Josephine now takes over. "The Chantry is frightened of a Dalish elf being called the 'Herald of Andraste'. They have stated this is blasphemy, and chosen to denounce the Inquisition and you. As such, the mages and templars have refused to meet with us."

"Chancellor Roderick had a hand in it no doubt." Cassandra adds with evident disdain.

"There is hope though. A cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak with you. She knows the players better than I and any information she has could be invaluable. It took a few days but we have been able to locate her in the Hinterlands helping refugees." Leliana interjects.

Cullen takes a step closer to the table, "A small scouting party will accompany you and with luck we can expand our influence while you're there. There are reports of a man named Dennet in the area and potentially being sympathetic to our cause. I would suggest seeking him out as well, if it's true, then his horses would be a great asset."

Cassandra now turns to me, "We have already begun preparations to depart and leave within the hour. A pack should be ready by now for you. I suggest you grab anything else you think you will need. I'm sorry for the short notice but time is not on our side."

The last part I had understood enough to know we were going to book it out of here. Other than making sure I had my notes, there was only one stop I needed to make. Giving my farewells, I hasten to my house to pick up what I would need. Notes and more writing materials in hand, I stuff them in the pack sitting next to the door already pre-packed. Seeing my staff propped beside it, I grab both and make my way to the blacksmith.

Scouts and what I had christened 'the core team', were already milling about preparing for the journey. I inspect the rows of weapons around the smithy, knowing that I would need to carry a weapon when magic or fists failed, but not comfortable with it being a staff. Spotting daggers slightly too small to be short swords, I bring them to Harritt and try my hand at miming a trade.

I did not know anything about their quality or if one staff was worth two daggers, but charade my interest anyway. Either it's a fair trade, because the 'Herald' is asking, or he just wanted me gone, he accepts and I have what I want.

Buckling them on my hips and tying them to my thighs to lay flat, I skip to join 'the core team'. Feeling immensely pleased with myself.

_Maybe this won't be too bad after all._


	3. Chapter 3

With the Inquisition not having mounts to spare, the novelty of walking Thedas wore off real quick. Eight days it took for us to travel to the Hinterlands. It made my first priority to recruit Dennet, no way would marching everywhere be sensible. By the time we made it anywhere Corypheas would probably have already taken over the world, not to mention the packs were heavy as fuck.

A plus side to the long journey was that when I wasn't interacting with my traveling companions or memorizing Common, I was left time to put my thoughts in order. Something that I had previously not had a chance to do, too busy trying to keep my head above water. After much deliberation with myself, I had come to a tentative course of action. Considering I knew what was supposed to happen, I needed to change things in small ways to avoid a future that I couldn't predict, this would safely set an overall course I wanted without dooming myself. At least that was the idea and hope.

I did not see any problem with closing the Breach as intended, though I would have to find a way to avoid getting sucked into the future of despair during Redcliffe. A dilemma I had been unable to find an answer to besides jumping Alexis, a solution that had failure written all over it. In that regard templars would have been a better bet, if I had ever played that quest choice. The unknown of what I would face, added to the uncertainty of how to handle Cole, put the mage crapshoot as my game plan.

The milder weather soon had me stripping down to an undershirt similar to a loose fitting tank top and my baggy trousers. From the red faces and hurried actions to cover me, I figured the shirt must have been 'unmentionables'. Which was ridiculous in my opinion since I was sure that there had been more revealing clothing in the game. The only thing I could think of was that since it was supposed to be lingerie in a sense, it was 'naughty'.

It was stupid hot with all the extra clothes and it covered the girls so I ignored the multiple attempts to stuff me back into the tunics.

_If I have to fight, I want to be comfortable goddamn it! Or as comfortable as I can get. I wish I knew how to sew so I could invent the bra for Thedas. Ugh, binding is so stifling! At least they are contained though, last thing I want is to be jumping around and worrying about those bad boys._

More than half a day went by before someone would look at me. Practicing conversing with the scouts who had stayed with us and my companions took a hit during this time. Eight days with nothing to do but study helped quite a bit on that front though. When we made camp I would train my magic before I would flop down on my bedroll and sleep like the dead.

It had come to the point where it was like playing Russian Roulette, basically rolling the dice on whether me or something else would catch fire or having some type of magical blow back. Though it did not happen as often if I made sure to focus hard and use some of the tricks Solas had shown me. A huge disadvantage considering I needed to be able to fight without dividing my attention.

The Hinterlands was a beautiful place as I knew it would be, even with the evidence of conflict. Inquisition scouts certainly earned their pay when our group made it to the forward operation camp without incident.

Scout Harding was waiting for our arrival and promptly took control of the troops in our entourage, directing them to other strategic locations. Tasks assigned, Harding cordially welcomes my team, filling us in on the current situation plaguing the Hinterlands.

"We've tried making contact with Dennet, but with the mage-templar fighting getting worse, efforts are at a standstill, Maker knows if he has survived. Mother Giselle at least has stayed at the crossroads, though the war has spread even to there. Inquisition soldiers have been posted to protect the refugees too injured or too stubborn to leave. I suggest you get her out of there soon, our soldiers are few and not equipped for a prolonged assault. Any help with getting some of the pressure off would go a long way."

"We try."

"We will see what can be done." Cassandra elaborates for me.

My team separates themselves from the camp, gathering in a loose circle to decide a course of action. I knew what I wanted, but Harding had made it sound like Giselle needed to take priority before shit hit the fan. If I remembered the general map correctly, and assuming in reality that the layout was similar, then saving Mother Giselle and then getting to Dennet would put us in the path of taking out the rogue templars and rebel mages in the area.

More battles and being a 'hero' did not appeal to me but I did not see my companions as being people who would ignore a chance to improve the circumstances of the refugees. I resign myself to the very real possibility of becoming the Thedas Police and make my opinion known.

In broken Common and a sigh, I cast my fate. "Giselle, Dennet. Giselle help. Dennet important."

"I'm with Glow Bait on this one. If Mother Giselle can be helpful with the Chantry then we should ensure her safety. The horsemaster survived this long, I'm sure he can last a little longer. Though if we're wrong, I'm capturing a halla to ride."

"Scout Harding expressed concern for the condition of the crossroads, it would be wise to listen. She knows better than we as to the state of the Hinterlands."

Cassandra ponders for a moment before acknowledging the logic. "Agreed. Then we should not tarry, the crossroads are nearby, let us see what can be done."

The crossroads wasn't far from the camp and the closer we came, the more it became clear that the fight had already reached the refugees. Bodies littered the road, screams along with the clash of steel echoed through the narrow path. Stepping out of the passage, we were instantly flung into chaos. Templars, apostates, and Inquisition soldiers all fought against each other in a free for all.

The tingle of magic, the harsh cough of Bianca, and steel sliding free of its sheathe brought me out of my fear induced paralysis. Heart beating thunderously, I force wooden legs forward, choosing to focus on opponents not heavily armored.

A man wearing leather fells one of our soldiers. Swiftly moving to approach from the side, I hop step into a roundhouse kick aimed at his ribs. Mind eerily razor focused from the adrenaline, I infuse magic around my shin. An impact equivalent to being hit by a car makes the man tumble back feet from where I was. A sickening crunch as bones break followed by wet wheezing as he tries to breathe cut through the haze of battle.

_WRONG! Wrong! This feels wrong!_

Intense nausea and unease hit me full force as I gaze upon what I had done. It wasn't anything like sparing. You and your opponent fought with everything you had, but you still used enough control so as not to seriously hurt each other. This was completely without control, here you had to aim to hurt, to maim, to kill.

Maybe it was a lingering sense of the real world, where hurting others was morally reprehensible and fear of punishment kept many in line, or maybe I actually did feel guilt and cared whether I injured someone. Either way it was not the time nor the place to judge, and if I was honest, I did not want to know the answer. I knew I would have to do much worse by the end of all this and could not let morality stop me from surviving.

Pushing everything down, I turn away from the man's death gurgles. A heavily armored templar marches for me, slashing out at any who advanced too close. There are very few gaps in his armor and I'm not confident I can reach them, regardless there is no running away. I prepare myself to put as much force as I can behind a palm strike, at least I could attempt to dent or push him back.

My first experience with a dampening field envelops me as he swings his sword in a wide arc, intending to take my head. I duck and roll away, feeling suddenly very mundane and not liking it one bit.

Popping up into a center stance, I unsheathe both daggers, choosing to stay on the defensive. His much larger weapon and body weight making it unwise to parry any slashes and cuts directed at me. I settle for side stepping and distance as I look for a potential opening.

He makes an exaggerated downward sweep, missing me by inches. I quickly step into his range and slash out at the gap in the crook of his arm. Hesitation and drag in the blade let me know I landed a hit as I create space again.

With a lunge and side cut he closes the distance. A small side step in, ducking under his raised arm, and I pivot my hips to put as much force as I can as I insert my left dagger into his armpit. The blade is sharp, it slips in with nary any resistance until it comes to a jarring stop and I awkwardly dance away again, leaving the blade.

The templar staggers to the side before he straightens and looks with stunned eyes at my blade. I know it is a fatal wound, the only thing keeping him from bleeding out is the dagger. A harsh yell and he yanks the blade, throwing it away, blood freely flowing down his armor now. He stumbles after me, chopping and thrusting wildly to kill me before he dies. It's fast. Only a few attacks and his knees buckle from the strain, slowly his head droops and he falls to the ground. It's a testament to his strength and will that he was able to move so much before finally succumbing.

Shaking uncontrollably from the adrenaline and nerves, I retrieve my dagger, wiping the blade on my pants as I scan the area.

The skirmish was drawing to an end, so sudden and yet so brutal. Cassandra was finishing off a particularly huge templar with the help of Varric who kept his attention divided. Solas had dragged a few injured troops off to the side and was healing them as emergency first aid.

More of our soldiers came to relieve Solas while others ran to me and saluted. "Herald!" They said in unison.

Varric and Cassandra have moved to stand behind me, "Mother Giselle?" I ask.

"With the injured, my lady -just there." The higher ranked soldier gestures.

I nod my thanks and shift to find her, only to be drawn up short by the soldier.

"We thank you for your assistance. Praise be to the Herald!" All the men salute me again then leave to tend the wounded.

 _"Wow, that's going to get old fast."_ Unamused, I shake my head at the nonsense of it all and go in search of the oh so special Mother Giselle.

She sits with a soldier, trying to give him comfort and convince him to allow a mage to heal him. I stride to the cot and patiently wait for her to finish her business.

Mother Giselle stands and centers her gaze on me. "You must be the one they call the Herald of Andraste."

I shrug, I couldn't really say that the title of Herald was foolish or created by the superstitious.

Strolling to my side, she motions for me to walk with her. "I have heard of the denouncement of the Inquisition, and to you especially. I know of those involved and the game some of them play. I will not lie, there are those who wish to use this opportunity to become the next Divine. While others are just terrified and cling to what is safe. They have only heard rumors and frightful tales about you, if you wish to convince them otherwise, you need to go to them. Meet with the remaining clerics, soothe their fears."

"And how does that help us? Sing them a song?" Varric interjects.

"Their power lies in being unified. You only need to create doubt and that will give you what you need. Many of the clerics that could be swayed are in Val Royeaux and I can give more names to Sister Leliana on those who would be amiable to a meeting."

"Mother Giselle, it is not safe here. Your skills would be better served in Haven. The Inquisition could use you, the men could use your guidance." Cassandra firmly states.

"It will not be much, but I will do what I can then." A final tilt of her head and Mother Giselle leaves us.

Solas passes her on the stairs and joins our little circle.

After making a raspberry sound I ask, "Dennet?"

Cassandra smirks over at me. "Dennet." She agrees.


	4. Chapter 4

_"You guys hear that? WOOP-WOOP! It's the sound of the police..."_ Voice low and dripping with sarcasm.

My sneaky suspicion that we would get side-tracked was spot on.

The West Road had put us directly in the path of multiple pockets of rogue templars and their main encampment. Our first encounter had been purely by accident as we stayed off the road to avoid trouble but close enough to follow it.

The shifting of stone alerted us that we were not alone. Cautiously we had moved forward, bodies low, using large boulders to stay hidden. Shabby tents and a single campfire surrounded by four well-equipped men blocked our way. The crunch of boots over rock revealed a fifth man, an archer, patrolling the edges of the camp. Cassandra quietly unshealthed her blade, motioning for Varric to take the guard. She advanced with deadly grace, approaching the remaining men from an angle to draw their attention. I prepare to offer magic support with Solas, unconvinced that I would be able to get into position without making a sound.

Stepping out of cover, Cassandra charges the unsuspecting men. Bolts from Bianca release, homing in on their target as the guard turns at the commotion, hollow thuds tolling as they lodge in his torso . The templars recover quickly at the surprise attack, grabbing shields and bows to counter.

Goosebumps raise at the feel of magic being gathered nearby before whispering pass to hit one of the archers. I take aim, intending to throw fire at the other. It flies wide, landing in front of him to drag along the ground, creating a burning trail that hits one of the tents. Startled by the sudden flame, his arrow sails harmlessly over Cassandra as he jumps back.

It wasn't what I had intended but it did the trick of keeping the archer off Cassandra. However, it had also drawn the attention of the other templars. Varric was busy ducking in and out of cover like a wack-a-mole to shoot pop shots at the already heavily injured archer Solas had been working on when a weighty pressure declares a dampening field. Threads of magic are sluggish as they collect for Solas and he continues the assault on the archers. I try and fail to pull magic together, my skill or knowledge being insufficient to overcome the field. Instead I run from boulder to boulder to flank the archers, Cassandra already having defeated one of her opponents and working on the second.

Solas and Varric have done a good job of maintaining the archers' focus solely upon them and on the defensive, the first bleeding extensively from bolts and blisters, his strength apparently waning by the looks of his misplaced aim. I turn my attention to the other, barely hurt but for some singed clothes and a bolt lodged within his thigh.  

He hears my steps, but I am too close to draw and accurately shoot. Pulling his own dagger, he meets me with a slash. I parry downward with a step back, letting him lose balance in his forward momentum, and counter with a cut across his extended forearm. My first instinct is to attempt another strike, push the advantage, but I choose caution.

I sidestep to get within his blind spot. A forward slide and I aim a jab at his kidney. Even with the leg injury he is able to pivot fast enough to redirect the blade and slice my exposed shoulder before I can move away. It was a searing pain and I could feel the warmth of blood as it trickled down my arm. Not looking down to check the damage, I put some distance to switch the dagger to my off-hand. I circle him, moving in the direction that requires the most strain on his leg, the blood beginning to pool in my right glove, creating a slick glide of material over wrist.

He stumbles slightly in his turning, and I slash out for his bicep. A blossoming of red appears, but a jolt of pain at my hip indicates it comes at a cost. I lurch backwards, bending a little at the twinge the movement causes. The templar presses in, but in a jolt is stopped short when a bolt to his throat throws him sideways with a wet, tearing sound. Coughs and gurgling struggles to breathe echo in the now still camp until another bolt brings silence.

Scanning the nearby area and seeing that we had been victorious, I give up the fight and lower down in a sit, holding my hip all the while to stem the blood now freely flowing. The cuts throbbed terribly and the adrenaline was slowly wearing off. A glance at my shoulder revealed that the wound was deeper than I thought, but not so far as enough to reach bone.

Varric holsters Bianca as he crouches next to me, giving me a once over. "Well shit, Glow Bait, you look awful. Chuckles, we could use you over here!"

The sound of hastening steps, then Solas comes into view. He eyes fall on the archer's body before shifting his gaze to us. Eyes widening in surprise, he closes the distance and the cool tingle of magic followed by warmth trails over me, zeroing in on gradually increasing painful injuries. The burning heat that accompanied as flesh mends and is forced to knit together makes me grit my teeth, then pant from the effort as the pain becomes more manageable.

"How is everyone? Herald, are you all right? It looks as though you took the worst of it." Cassandra says as she joins us.

I grunt and give her a thumbs up, too drained to come up with anything else. The wounds were healed but the blood remained, a reminder that I was still very much mortal and incredibly squishy.

We searched for anything useful and clues for why the templars had decided to attack people indiscriminately. Varric was the one who had fished out messages and orders describing the dead men's role and where the leaders were. When I saw what he had found I let out an internal groan, figuring I knew exactly what was probably going to happen next. The rogue power structure was holding up in a camp close to the river and not relatively out of the way. Preferring to keep my unpopular opinion to myself, it was unanimously decided that it would be best to take care of the templar problem before heading to Dennet.

It took us half the day and stumbling upon three more groups spaced along the road before we reached the river. Dusk was fast approaching and when Varric spotted a defensible lip jutting out of a nearby hill, we decided to break camp for the night.

It was within eye-shot of the river, and raising my arms in victory with a jubilant _"WOO HOO!",_ I promptly started to remove my weapons and boots.

"Herald! What are you doing? Now is not the time to strip, and everyone can see you." Indicating Varric and Solas next to her.

Chuckling while shaking his head, "really, I'm flattered, who knew my charms were so great?"

"Perhaps a bath could wait until we are in a safer location." Solas states with the turning of his back, but not soon enough to miss a slight pink cropping up within the tips of his ears.

Laughing outright at the misunderstanding, I choose to jump in the water instead of correcting them. Dunking my head under the water, I do my best to scrub the sweat and blood from my hair before coming up and working on the rest of me, clothes and all.

"Ugh, you enjoy teasing me." She sighs before facing the men, "I will stay with the Herald if you two could secure the area for now." Amused smirks followed by more quiet laughter the only answer as they leave to do as requested.

Seeing that we would now be alone, and at that point of not quite caring who sees me if they turn around, I decide I might as well go all the way.

"You too?" I ask in invitation as I peel off the rest of my clothes while staying within the water. From the heat of the day and the blood clearly on her armor, I was not the only one who could use a dip.

"We are in the midst of a war zone and Varric or Solas could see if they were so inclined, not to mention anyone happening by."

"Nothing hide, who care, Cassandra? Water nice. Varric, Solas close if trouble come." Basically trying to tell her not to give a crap if she wants to relax a bit.

She mulls it over, clearly torn. I can see the thought of washing the past few days away was a temptation. When I throw my soaked clothes at her, it seems to make up her mind. Soon we are both enjoying the cool water and pleasure of being free of grime.

Too bad it was Varric's voice calling over that broke the momentary reprieve. "Not that I'm complaining, but are you ladies going to live in there?"

Grinning as I slosh out of the river, I search through my discarded pack for clean clothes, debating if I should rinse out what was dirty. I settle on doing it for one other set, and balling everything together in a soggy mess, trot up to our camp. There is no fire tonight, opting to err on the side of caution. Cassandra sits on the ground, her armor spread out in front of her as she takes a rag to wipe away the gore. Varric leans nearby, calibrating the gears while oiling Bianca with an ease that bespoke of many such nights bent to the task. Our resident 'apostate' was off in the distance, performing first guard duty.

As I spread my things out to dry in the cool evening air and set my bedroll for the night, Varric sends an amused snort my way. "Only you would be crazy enough to take a swim in the middle of hostile territory and get someone else to do it too. Well... you and Hawke."

" _What can I say?_ I try." Smiling and completely unashamed.

"It is not crazy to be hygienic, Varric. It keeps the body healthy."

"HA! Is that what it is, Seeker? Hey, I'm not judging. You won't hear me nay saying skinny dipping, just surprised you went along with it is all. Seems you have a wild streak, Seeker. "

"Hmph!"

I suppress a laugh, entertained as always by their banters and thinking not for the first time, that it was a shame they never ended up together. Their personalities being complementary in my opinion.

Pulling my daggers from their sheathes and arranging them in front of me, I look them over prior to taking a sharpening stone from my pack. All three of us work in companionable silence, interrupting it now and then to joke or remark upon something that happened during the day.

Night has fallen when Cassandra dons her armor again, leaving us to relieve Solas. In minutes he strode from the dark to our small camp and settled near a large boulder with an air of one accustomed to the shadows and the loneliness of the wildness.

"You see the show, Chuckles?" Clearly teasing and trying to get a rise out of him.

His lips pinch a little, "No. I would not peer where it was not wanted, or at the unsuspecting."

I try, I really do, but I can't stifle the bubble of laughter at his face. A mix of almost offended and displeased at being asked if he peeked.

Smirking, Varric takes pity on him and changes the subject. "We shouldn't be too far from where the templars are holed up. Let's hope the way isn't crawling with them."

"If the camp has not been moved due to our interference, then it may be prudent to cross the river and approach from the waterfall."

"Hmm...We might avoid some of the patrols that seem to litter the place. It's a sound idea, I'll ask the Seeker what she thinks. Anything that makes things easier has my vote." Retrieving Bianca, Varric disappears into the night, presumably to confer with Cassandra.

It's the first since leaving Haven that I was left alone with Solas, and to my humiliation and intense frustration, I'm nervous. However, it was he who was the one to shatter the awkward silence.

"You are becoming more familiar with common. Necessity can breed discovery and wisdom."

I think carefully before I reply, wary of where he was going with this and not wanting to step into anything. "Too little."

"It will come in time, the expert in anything was once a beginner. You display great resolve in your endeavor to control and wield magic. You chose to shape it and make it your own. A feat that many mages lack the will to try. That indomitable focus is a sight to behold, the result of being self taught I suppose."

_Ah, so the fishing begins. I had wondered when it would. There had been many times that I could see that my comrades and the advisors had wanted to question me, but stopped short. I had assumed they only waited for my understanding of common to improve before doing so._ "No alone. Solas help." Choosing to skirt the question.

Solas cocks his head to the left, studying me. "Today must have been difficult for you, fighting human beings to the death. Battle is new to you. As a Dalish elf that is certainly rare. Did your clan not deal with people often?"

_Going to keep at eh? Well game on!_ "Stay by clan, no leave. Human, clan friend. No fight." _HA! Have some butchered Thedas Common!_

My reply is greeted with a slight squint of his eyes and a twitch of his mouth.

He has figured out I'm not giving him straight answers, and it oddly seems to be entertaining him. The puzzle refusing to be solved so simply.

"Hmm...Explains the hands then. After the Breach, I tended you. Your hands are very soft, devoid of any blemish. Your clan must have done well indeed to avoid the harshness most endure in order to keep such perfection." He raises a brow in challenge, enjoying the interplay.

Smirking in turn, I hold up a hand. "Gloves." And part challenge, part curiosity, I ask, "You?"

A full grin surfaces now, "I did not receive such luck."

Without thinking I move to sit beside his reclining figure, pulling off my impromptu fingerless gloves. The hand nearest rests on his thigh, I lift it, turning it palm up. With the faintest of caresses I trace tip to heel and back again. Intrigued by unfamiliar sensation.

I realize what I'm doing and almost halt, about to apologize, but his acceptance of my exploration stops me. I had been curious, the man fascinated me and there was an insane attraction to him that irked me to no end. Being a rather impulsive person and living with the philosophy to never have 'what ifs', I did what I wanted. I continued my touch, gently memorizing the shape, the lines of his hand.

The tip of my middle finger places small circles in the center of his palm, idly finding comfort at the movement. I shift my gaze to his face. The blue grey of his eyes study me with such intensity that for a second my breath catches, I can feel my heart accelerate, beating a frantic tempo as butterflies and anticipation filter through me.

"Good thinking on using the waterfall, Chuckles. The Seeker agrees that would be our best bet of taking care of the templars." Varric states as he suddenly materializes from the shadows, brows raised at our close proximity and my obvious startlement, but unexpectedly doesn't comment on it.

Wordlessly I return to my bedroll, thankful for the abrupt cloud cover that veiled the moon and hid the red now bathing my face. I settle in for the night, but I found sleep to be elusive, still wired from earlier and unable to calm the race that had suddenly invaded my pulse.

_What was that? There's no way he has a thing for me. Interest in the oddity certainly, but can't be attraction. Jeez, and what about me? Going all creeper on him. Poor guy was probably just wondering what the crazy was up to._ I quietly release a sigh, pondering on if I should probably apologize for pawing him or just ignore it.

Eventually the sounds of insects and the lapping of the river gradually lull me to sleep. A whispering last thought drifts by, but I'm too tired to grasp it, and instead fall gratefully into slumber.

... _Indomitable focus was a flirt for the mage...._


	5. Chapter 5

Morning brings nothing but frustrating confusion. I excused myself from the group to go about my business and get space to collect my feelings. My actions and fuzzy emotions for Solas were sending serious red flags and 'DON'T DO IT! WARNING, WARNING!' to the logical portion of my brain. Unfortunately it seemed like it was being overpowered by the devil-may-care part. It was exhausting to fight instincts that usually are given free reign, and I didn't know how long I could do it before there was a nuclear meltdown.

_I need to shift my attention on other things and devote myself to staying a step ahead. To do that, I need to improve my Common and get to Skyhold. Skyhold and the item there are my best bet of getting back to the real world. I should never forget that, I can't get distracted. I know what will happen if I do, there's no reason why it would be different for me._

Having been away long enough, and still not feeling any better about the situation, I head back. Preparations for breaking camp and the coming fight diffuse the lingering self-consciousness from the previous night's ill-advised exploration. Nothing changed in his demeanor towards me and being a man who would certainly not allow a person in his personal space he did not wish, I opt to forget my poor slip in judgment.

Forging our own way along the opposite side of the river proved to be more arduous than expected. There was no trail to follow, just slipping and sliding over loose rocks with frantic grabbing of fistfuls of grass when we needed to climb higher. However in trade off we did avoid the templar patrols easily spotted along the road across the river. It seemed none had been placed on our side since only the very determined, or moronically foolish, would scramble among the boulders.

It was hours before the thunderous beat of the waterfall could be heard in the distance. When we were close enough to identify the tell-tale mist floating up, we stopped to rest and leave our packs nestled within the rocks. Everyone was panting and drenched in sweat as we caught our breath for the last push, and yet Cassandra must have had it the worst since she was in full armor and carried not only her pack, but a shield and sword as well. She never slowed or complained however. If anything she was the one with which the rest of us had to keep pace with, trying not to fall behind. More than anything I had seen thus far, it made me have newfound mad respect and awe for her.

Using trees and the rock formation along the mountain to stay hidden, and the waterfall masking any noise, we position ourselves for a clear view of the templar encampment.

Logs sharpened to jagged points form a wall to protect the camp from trespassers while six large tents made to house multiple men surrounded small fires ringed by makeshift benches. Supply wagons and barrels lay wedged underneath an outcropping of stone in one corner, as far from the tents as the minimal space would allow. Four archers eye the mountain path, on guard for any sign of approach. A count of the men ambling about or performing menial tasks reveals twelve more, men ranging from heavily armored tanks with legs to light chainmail initiates.

Sunlight suddenly glints off three particularly elaborate breastplates, drawing my attention. The fabled rogue templar leadership no doubt.

"Them." Indicating the three for my companions to observe.

"Judging by their intricate uniform, those would be the heads we are looking for." Solas comments after studying their armor.

"By my count, there's sixteen men in that camp. With only the four of us, I don't think we can afford a straightforward assault. Sorry to say, but this might be too much for us to handle alone."

Cassandra watches the templars' movements for a moment, "There could be more in the tents. Loath as I am to say, but you may be right, Varric. Even an ambush from the waterfall may not prove enough, there are still too many. We would be surrounded and outnumbered quickly."

From my perspective, we would be squashed promptly, and that was assuming they did not see us as we emerged from behind the freaking waterfall. Nevertheless, I was not quite willing to admit that I had spent most of my day bumbling along the side of a mountain for absolutely nothing. On the other end, neither was I willing to go on a suicide mission for make believe refugees. No, we needed something that would buy us more time to even the odds.

With a critical eye I scan the encampment again. An insane, perhaps stupid, idea forming. "Tents. Fire tents. Smoke, yes?"

"You mean we set fire to the tents to generate a smoke screen?" Varric hesitates before answering, pondering the viability. "It could work...but it would also draw any templar patrols in the area."

"We need not engage every man. A precision strike would achieve our goal just as well."

A firm nod from Cassandra. "Agreed. Those three are the only ones we need. We could take care of them before reinforcements arrive. Even if they were so inclined to pursue us, our path would be too difficult for them to chase for long."

"So who gets to play peek-a-boo with the camp full of pissed off templars?" Varric asks.

"Solas can set the fires from here. Varric, those archers, can you handle them before they have a chance to stop Solas?"

"Do demons make terrible dance partners? Of course! Leave it to me, Seeker."

A roll of her eyes at his quip, "the Herald and I will take the path behind the waterfall and take care of their leadership. Herald, can you help set fires when Solas begins? The quicker those tents go up, the more confusion there will be."

I nod my assent, mentally preparing myself for facing a shit ton of big angry men if I screw up.

A few more orders and our plan is set. Cassandra and I pick our way to the waterfall, moving out from behind it and as close to the camp as we dared. Tensely we wait for the sign of a fire, knowing there was only one shot at this.

It comes all too soon.

An alarmed shout as the first tent goes up in a raging blaze spurs me to action. Taking aim, I hurl grenade-like flames at the nearest tent, causing a cascading explosion of fire that catches adjacent tents and trees. In seconds the camp is ablaze, thick plumes of smoke engulfing the mountainside. Commands cut through the din and smoke, originating from the general direction the leaders had been recently spotted in.

Turning to each other, Cassandra and I share a silent gesture of acknowledgement before setting off to our respective roles.

Checking the tunic tied over my mouth, I stay as low to the ground as I can, taking shallow breaths to keep from coughing. Substantial amounts of smoke and smoldering embers drift through the air, making the entirety of the field and visibility a nightmare. Then, hazy and wavering, silhouettes five feet ahead have me rushing to fall upon them before my presence becomes noticed.

The closest man was bending to retrieve a helmet from the ground, and too late does he see my approach.

Pulling the dagger from his throat with a vicious twist, I turn to his companion who raises his shield in an attempt to bash me. The helmet still lays discarded near my feet. I shift to put it between the shielded templar and myself. As hard as I can, I punt the helmet at him. His shield lifts to deflect it from his face, leaving his knees vulnerable. Rotating my body, I kick out at his knee, infusing as much magic as I rapidly can to dent the armor.

The shrill scream as his knee breaks and lower leg is almost completely ripped away pierces my ears. He drops to the dirt, fervently clutching at the butchered appendage. Heavy footfalls signal others are nearby and I leave him there as a decoy, and step away to blend with the smoke.

As I continue the search for my target, I spot a squat archer with his back to me, looking as though he is hesitant to join the commotion. To go around him would put me farther in then I wished to be, so I draw forward as quietly as I can.

A figure emerges from the haze to stand in front of the archer, reprimanding his cowardice. I am too close to abort undetected, but I couldn't even if I wanted too. The mystery templar was my objective, he had found me instead. My advance was spotted by the commander who calls a warning to the archer as he draws his sword. Confused, the archer starts to twist around but it is too slow; enabling me to stop him by grabbing his hair with a downward yank while jabbing my blade through the back of his neck.

The commander had his shield and sword at the ready, and without pause at the fate of his comrade he stepped to try to get around the archer to get to me. I use the hold on the archer's hair and dagger still lodged to pivot his body, keeping him as a struggling barrier.

Slackening of the archer's body warns me he's going down, and with a hard magic enhanced heel kick to his lower back, send him into the advancing templar. As though handling little more than a fly, a calm backhanded sweep of shield redirects the archer away. _Well...fuck._

He initiates the first attack with a slide-step, swinging down in order to cut. I put magic behind the parry, keeping to his sword arm. A counter sideways slash aimed at my shoulder has me ducking. I throw a small energy ball at his exposed eyes, thinking to blind him. Raising his shield, magic shatters harmlessly as I stand to follow it with another powered heel kick to his shield.

It pushes him back with stumbling steps, a large dent present in the middle of the towering shield.

A hop-step forward and I roundhouse kick his shield, putting more force behind it this time. With a staggered skid backwards, he comes to a halt, keeping his shield raised to protect his body as I hammer it with powered kicks in quick succession, and at last bring him to a knee.

The shield is an indented mess before he has time to conjure a dampening field. It's presence jolting even though I expected it, giving him an opening to shove me hard with his shield. My left arm and shoulder take the brunt of it as I rotate my hips to block. The hit is excruciating and jarring, feeling as if it was great enough to rattle my brain, and give me the beginnings of a massive headache as I'm thrown backwards to the ground.

I scramble to get to my feet but already he's on me. With a metal fist he punches out, hitting me in the jaw before I can get an arm up. It brings me down hard, and the rich taste of iron fills my mouth. My vision darkens and I flail my fists to hit anything I can as I blink repeatedly in an endeavor to clear it, desperate to stay alive. His weight settles more heavily over my hips as I struggle, fists bouncing off steel, hurting me more than him but I continue.

His hand comes to palm the top half of my face, squeezing hard before he brings my head forward only to slam it back.

Any modicum of clarity I had before dissipates, and now I can feel myself losing consciousness.

_NO! NO! Not like this! Fuck! FIGHT! Fight back now!_

Using the pressure on my scalp, I focus on it to bring myself back long enough to judge where his face loomed. Seizing his wrist with one hand as hard as I can muster, I use it to help me leverage my body to reach his eyes. In sheer hopelessness I stab my fingers in as hard as possible, and by some miracle, it's enough.

His weight and the pressure on my skull disappear as he rolls away covering his eyes. With black spotted vision I turn on my side, warm liquid trailing down from my hair line to kiss chin and nose, and with effort raise up on shaky elbows and knees. Sluggishly I stand on unsteady legs, intending to finish him, to get revenge for the pain, but my knees buckle and I fall to the ground. Again I struggle to my feet, only to fall.

_GET UP! GET THE FUCK UP! YOU WILL DIE HERE IF YOU DON'T! EVERYTHING WILL HAVE BEEN FOR NOTHING!_

I'm panting now from the effort just to stay on hand and knee, to stay conscious. The blood dripped from my mouth and down my face from what is certainly a nasty gash, taunting me.

Hurried strides come from my right as a silhouette breaks through the smoke. With efficiency they step to the commander, pivoting their hips to use the momentum to strike his head from his body. Firm hands grip my biceps and hoist me to my feet, draping one of my arms across their shoulders. "Hold on to me. We have been here too long, we must hurry before more come to investigate."

Cassandra all but dragged me with her as we skirt the edges of the camp and race to return to the waterfall. Head hanging and gaze unfocused, I'm not even aware when she gets us across and to our waiting companions.

"Holy shit, what happened in there? We tried to pick off as many as we could from here but the smoke did a damn good job."

"Place her here. I will heal her the best I can, though I fear we do not have much time before they follow."

Gingerly I'm lowered to sit on the ground as Solas comes to kneel at my side. Still in a daze, I feel his magic wash over me, and I seek the comfort his presence brings to push down the terror of being so close to dying.

I did not care that he wasn't real or that nothing but bad news awaited if I ignored my warnings. I let myself have a moment of weakness. I shifted to lay my head in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He says nothing of my behavior and allowed me to rest. Heat and an intense headache permeate my skull as Solas' magic takes effect. I'm still light headed afterwards but at least I'm not about to pass out and I could see clearly.

Wordlessly I lift my head and move to stand, unsteady at first, forcing Solas to be my crutch until it passes.  

"I suggest we get the hell out of here." Varric states as he surveys the camp.

Unanimously we agree and as one gather our equipment, setting off back down the river as fast as we dared whilst staying in cover. The coming down is easier than the going up, but it's still a long journey back to the West Road. Even after the sun sets, we carefully continue, using the moonlight to help guide us. The looming threat of pursuit or potential ambush when we make it to the road pushing us to get a safe distance away.

Eerie silence greets us when the West Road's broken bridge finally comes into view. Leaving the rest of us behind, Varric stealthily threads his way down, checking for hidden assailants as he vanishes into the dark.

Tired and incredibly fatigue from the day, not including blood loss, the boulder I had propped myself against was the only thing keeping me up. I was finding it harder to focus and trudge on. The others could see it too, having had to slow down the last leg here.

"It's all clear for now, we should keep moving while we can." Seemingly coming alive from the night only to materialize from the shadows without warning. For a moment Varric's eyes study me, giving me a once over. "Better put as much distance as we can from those templars, I don't think Glow Bait is in any condition for a fight."

"None of us are in any condition for a fight. We would be hard pressed if a patrol happens upon us."

Cassandra gazes at the road ahead before addressing us, "Master Dennet's farm should be nearby, if we can make it there then we should be relatively safe. Assuming it's not overrun by templars or demons. Or mages."

We shoulder our packs once again and wearily trek up the road. The pace gradually becoming more and more sluggish as the hour progresses. It feels as though I have almost fallen asleep while walking several times, steps faltering on occasion.

Lights coming from log cabins are a much welcomed sight. And with a collective sigh of relief, a renewed sense of vigor pushes us the remaining distance. Cassandra knocks on the door of the largest home, minutes pass before it opens to reveal an older gentlemen sporting a graying beard. Seeing how haggard we appeared, not to mention me still covered in blood, he ushers us inside.

As Cassandra handles the introductions and our story for being there, I slide down the wall to sit on the floor. Too worn to fight the exhaustion anymore.

A hand comes to rest on my shoulder, blearily I crack my eyes open to look at Solas. Fatigue is evident on his face but his magic still sweeps over me to mend the remaining damage from my skirmish. Weakly I lift my right hand to run the back of my knuckles over his arm in thanks, the sweet oblivion of sleep dragging me down, not to be ignored. The ordeals of the day finally laying claim to me.

I pass out just inside Dennet's home, uncaring that I'm sitting against a wall. It could have been a plush mattress of nails for all I cared.


	6. Chapter 6

Hushed voices penetrate dreamless slumber, poking at my consciousness until it forces me to wakefulness.  

"How is the Herald? She's been unconscious for hours."

"Physically the Herald is whole. The events of yesterday have taken a toll, rest is the only suggestion I can offer."

Quiet footfalls halt near Cassandra and Solas. "What happened in there, Seeker? You said the leaders were dead but that doesn't explain why Glow Bug here needed to be half dragged out of there."

"I am not certain either, Varric. We separated when the fires started. I heard a struggle as I was making my way out. She was already on the ground with a lieutenant blinded nearby when I found her." A pause as another set of feet joins them. "We may need to impose on your hospitality a little while longer, Master Dennet."

"Take what time you need, there isn't much I can do but I will offer what help I can to the Inquisition. Removing those templars will help, but with bandits and mages running around still, I fear I cannot join you, nor give you the horses you need. I must secure the safety and well-being of the people here, you understand. We can discuss this further when...."

Though I felt drained emotionally and running on fumes, that got me up. Fuck no to staying in the Lands of Hell longer than I needed to. I was good and ready to be out of here and never come back.

"What need, help Inquisition? "

Eyes wide and evidently shocked, "It's true isn't it. She was touched by Andraste."

"You should rest, it can wait another day." Cassandra cuts in.

"I good. Thank you, Cassandra. Dennet, what need?" Standing up and insistent now.

Blinking once and pulling himself together, Dennet straightens before staring into my eyes. "As I told your comrades earlier Herald, I cannot in good faith leave the farmers here to fend for themselves. A rift at the edge of my fields threatens everyone here. Not only that, my people need a way to protect themselves from the chaos going on. Our smith mentioned watchtowers. You do this, and I will have no qualms about coming with you and seeing that the Inquisition has the best horses in all of Ferelden."

_You gotta be shitting me...._

Eye twitching and not at all in the mood, I hold in my initial snarky comment and instead calmly state, "Cullen; watchtowers," then gesturing to encompass my group, "rift close. Good?"

"I-It is acceptable. Though until your Cullen arrives I can only offer a few horses for now."

I nod in agreement, it would get us horses and out of the Hinterlands. I look to my companions, wanting to get things done as soon as possible. "Rift?"

A heavy sigh with a shake of his head as Varric responds, "If you're sure, though try not to push it, Glow Bait. Demon's aren't going anywhere."

Strapping on weapons, we head outside. Realizing I had no clue where to go, I was about to ask if anyone knew where the rift was, but the giant green glow in the distance answered that question.  

Splitting into two man teams, we circled the rift to sandwich the demons between us. The nearby hills and trees offering sufficient cover until everyone was in position.

Cassandra and I observe the demons for a moment, debating on what to do. There were two Terror demons along with several Wraiths floating about. The Wraiths could be taken care of easily by the ranged team, however the Terror demons would be a problem. They had a habit of being unpredictable and if they decided that Cassandra wasn't interesting enough, well... shit would hit the proverbial fan.

"We will need to draw the demons' notice to give the others time to take care of the Wraiths. Once they're gone it will just be a matter of keeping those two off you."

_"Phhftt._ Good go."

Moving in a 'V' formation, we trot the remaining distance, dividing the demons attention between us. Thankfully these demons had a limited range of attacks and thinking capacity, making it a simple matter of reading patterns.

It is a rain of fade goop missiles as I dodge my way to the rift, bolts and magic whizzing through the air to hit the demon's from behind. The Terror demons luckily otherwise occupied for the time being. Wraiths dissipate as they fall to the ambush, the lone survivors drifting farther away and turning their attention to the real threat.

Stepping up to the rift I begin 'stuffing' the hole, happy that the hungry pull of the rift was ridiculously easy to fight when compared to the Breach. A whirling pool materializes at my feet and I know what that precedes.

Irritated and frustrated at the last few days and the situation in general, I break from the rift to put distance from the Terror demon appearing in front of me, though not before I kick the head emerging out of the pool with a, _"Get back in there!"_

The second Terror apparently decided it would come to the aid of his pal and was crawling its way out of the swirling puddle as I was escaping. I pump my legs into a full on sprint upon hearing the first one behind, sounding mighty pissed at having been punted. Not breaking stride I run at the second, and placing my hands on its hunched shoulders, vault over. Bright green flares as more Wraiths come through the rift. Goop bombs and screeches of Terror demons filling the area as I sprint between demons and dodge incoming magic. I lose sight of Cassandra as she is lost in the fray, fending off Wraiths and endeavoring to taunt the Terrors from me.

Solas and Varric have moved closer to the skirmish, magic and bolts hurriedly firing off. I keep my sprint up, circling back around to get to the rift. Ducking, sliding, and jumping over demons and magic alike. Nearing the rift, I pull as hard as I can, haphazardly stuffing it closed as I keep up my run. My 'drive by' attempt at rift closing works but I can feel there is a cost to it.

The dozens of demons surrounding the grassy hill dissolve in a cloud of green as I trip, sliding over the ground on my left shoulder, clutching my palm hard. The cry of pain is unavoidable and I curl into myself as I clench my jaw to ruthlessly silence it. Green sparks bounce from my hand as I ride it out. Then, suddenly it ceases and the anchor lays dormant.

I gaze up through my hair, unfurling my body as I do so, knowing there would only be one reason for it.

Worried glances and questions as to my welfare spring from my teammates. I brush off the concern as best I can and give them a flippant grin and shrug to assuage their fears. Pretending indifference to the mishap, knowing I can't betray any understanding of the anchor or who has the ability to manipulate it.

" _WOO-HOO!_ Rift close. Good us! _Now let's get the fuck out of here and deal with some butt-hurt_ Chantry _in_ Val Royeaux."    

"Should we not handle the apostates first?" Cassandra asks.

"Inquisition need mages, mages Redcliffe. Chantry Val Royeaux. Inquisition back Hinterlands." No reason to go around in circles and back-track if we have to come back here anyway later.

"True, we have to come through here again after the Chantry gets off our ass. Assuming we can change their minds that is." Varric adds.

"The rogue templars will be fractured without someone to guide them. It will take some time before the remaining forces disperse. Time that they will continue to fight with the rebel mages. Perhaps their numbers will be lessened when we return."

"I suppose. I hate to leave things like this. Though you are right, taking care of relations with the Chantry is more important." Cassandra reluctantly concedes.

"Val Royeaux!" I triumphantly shout as I point in a general direction. Reaching up, Varric moves my arm to point the opposite way. "Val Royeaux!"

~~~~~~

Traveling by horseback? Hell. Yeah.

It was ten days of sore butt cheeks and legs that felt like jelly whenever we stopped, but considering how long it would have taken otherwise...Well worth the discomfort. We had been sure to stop by the Hinterlands' forward camp prior to departing for Val Royeaux. Giving Harding instructions to send a raven informing the advisors of the current situation and to send troops for Dennet's horses while helping to oversee the watchtowers.

Initially it had been quite fun learning to ride and watching Varric upon his steed, stubby legs jutting out and unable to properly hug the fat belly. However, days in the novelty wore off, and studying and practice became the only means of relieving the boredom.

Pristine white walls with lustrous golden accents proclaim our arrival to Val Royeaux. Passing through gleaming arches, we stride down the cobbled bridge to the city center. Having had the King's Common hammered into my head for almost a month straight, I was fairly confident I could converse with the clerics and only partially sound like the village idiot.

Many of the Orlesian masks worn were even more elaborate and absurd then the game ever gave them credit for, as if the people were trying to one up each other on the most ludicrous appearance. And the wigs...

More than once I had to press my lips tightly together to keep from laughing. Even having to go so far as to cross my arms and place a hand over my mouth to hold it in while turning to pretend I was studying the architecture.

Whispers behind raised fans follow us as we pass. A couple walking arm-in-arm separate and the fearful gasps as they cringe away to put more space between ourselves and them hints at the reception to come.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here, Seeker, and say they know who we are."

Sarcasm practically oozing from every word, "your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric."

The sassy grin indicates an imminent snarky come back, but it's cut off by the scout trotting forward to get our attention.

She kneels before addressing me. "Lady Herald! News, ma'am. Sister Leliana sent word to the Clerics that you would come. The Chantry Mother awaits your arrival but they have drawn a mob, railing against the Herald. There are also a great many templars in attendance."

Interrupting the report, "Wait, there are templars here? Why would they come?"

"The people believe they are here to protect them from the Inquisition, Lady Cassandra. So far they have stayed gathered on the other side of the market, I think they intend to speak with you."

Slightly intrigued and a little nervous to see how this plays out with me physically being there, I blow a breath. "Let go."

The market is a sea of bright colors and energetic hum. Templars stoically removed from the rest the only splotch of blandness. A gathering of gaudy fabric surrounds a raised platform for which the Chantry Clerics spew their propaganda, riling the people.

"Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me and listen! As one we mourn our Divine. Her beautiful but naive heart silenced forever...by treachery! You may wonder what will become of her murderer, well...wonder no more!" A dramatic pause as the peacocks look to one another and she gazes at me significantly, "Behold! The so-called Herald of Andraste. Claiming to arise where our beloved fell." Murmurs and whispers drastically increase at the accusation. It only seems to spur her on further as she raises her voice to be heard over the crowd, "We say this is a false prophet! The Maker would never send an elf to save us! Do not be fooled! Reject this interloper, this false prophet! Reject the Inquisition and their heresy!"

Roars of approval and cries for justice carry through the market.

_Well poop...Knew that was going to happen but damn if it doesn't look like there's going to be a lynching. Crazy, superstitious, racist bastards....UGH! I wish my common was better so I could troll these people, it would be worth the displeasure from Josephine._

"STOP!" Voice rising above the paranoia, the ring of authority bringing silence. "Chantry serves own. Inquisition only want help! Breach must close! Help Inquisition, not self!"

Cassandra takes a half step closer, "It is true! The Inquisition only wishes to help! We want to stop this madness before it consumes us all. If we do not stand together then it will never end. Help us."

"Do you hear this?! This supposed Herald of Andraste. She can barely speak! Touched by Andraste, indeed." _Don't do it...Keep the sarcasm in...Must. Keep. It. In....._ "Why she is nothing but a half-wit!"

Releasing a loud gasp as I clutch my heart in mock hurt, "Offense!" Shaking my head as I sneer up at her and the clerics standing nearby, "Half-wit you. You serve only self. "

"Enough of this!" She gestures to the templars standing nearby, as if issuing an order, "The templars have returned to the faith! They will cast down this, 'Inquisition', and we will be safe once more!"

Stoned faced and calm, they come forward, striding up the platform. The Lord Seeker leads the group, striding past the Chantry Mother without so much as an acknowledgement. Confusion surfaces for an instant before one of the men punches her in the face, shocked gasps and disbelieving exclamations filtering through the crowd.

"HAHA, YES! _In your face!_ " _I know what that feels like, shit stings!_ A disproving _tsk_ accompanies my outburst. Shrugging and unapologetic, "deserve it."

Cassandra swiftly marches to intercept the Lord Seeker as he steps down to join the rest of his men. "Lord Seeker Lucius, it is imperative that we speak with-"

"You will not address me." Tone low and threatening.

It brings Cassandra up short, uncertainty and astonishment on her face. "Lord Seeker?"

"You should be ashamed. Creating a sacrilegious movement while raising some puppet up to be Andraste's chosen." He turns, staring down the spectators still present, "All of you should be ashamed. The templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to punish the mages!" Lucius points to my group, seeming to put the blame on us. "You are the ones who have failed. You who'd leash our righteous swords in doubt and fear! If you had listened to us, hundreds need not have died! If you came to appeal to the Chantry, it is too late. They are splintered and hold no power."

"Good. Help then. Breach must close, danger everyone."

My statement is met with a derisive snort. "Why should I help the Inquisition? Herald of Andraste. I would sooner believe a toad was our savior. Your Inquisition holds no power, no holy purpose. You have nothing. We shall do things our own way."

"B-but Lord Seeker, what if-"

The templar's question is cut off by one of the seekers, "Enough! You have all been called to a higher purpose, do not question."

"I will make the Templar Order a power to stand against the darkness. Too long have we been suppressed. We will stand for our independence. The Inquisition, your so called Herald--you have shown me less than nothing. Templars! We March! Val Royeaux is unworthy of your protection!"

"So.. that didn't go so well." Varric comments as the templars fall in line behind the seekers.

"This makes no sense. Has Lord Lucius gone mad? He was always a decent and humble man. His behavior is very unusual."

"Good there mages."

"Yes, but I would not discount the templars just yet. There may still be some who can see his ramblings for the madness that it is." Sighing Cassandra continues, "Come, we should return to Haven and decide our next course of action."

A whistling whoosh then thunk as an arrow lodges in the nearby pillar, disrupting our plans. Calmly Varric strolls over and reads the letter attached out loud.

_Hup, know who that's from._

Having the advantage of hindsight, I voted we follow the instructions. There was much skepticism but overall it was decided that a small detour would make little difference. Moving to the gates to find our mystery man, two mages apparently waiting for me block our path.

_Funny that a circle mage is waiting next to the leader of the rebel mages._

Sniffing disdainfully at Fiona, the circle mage hands me an invitation to the Imperial Enchanter's salon before promptly setting off at a clipped pace.

"It seems you are in high demand. I wonder if I may have a moment of your time as well."

"Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Cassandra asks, clearly sounding flabbergasted.

"Leader of the mage rebellion. Is it not dangerous for you to be here?" Solas adds.

"The templars are not the only ones who heard news of this gathering. I wanted to see the fabled 'Herald of Andraste' with my own eyes. If what you say is true, that you are looking for help to seal the Breach, then perhaps my people would be the wiser option."

"Interesting that you were not at the Conclave. Seems you dodged a hit on that one." Varric chimes in.

"As did the Lord Seeker you'll note. Both of us sent negotiators, fearing that there could be a trap. I won't pretend that I'm not glad I did and that I live. However I lost many dear friends that day. I wish to see that the crime of murdering so many innocents be punished. For that, I would offer your Inquisition our aid, provided of course we can come to an agreement. Come to Redcliffe, meet with the mages. An alliance would benefit us both after all."

Not waiting for a reply, she leaves us with a self-assured au-revoir and not so much as a backwards glance.

Cassandra's eyes follow her as she departs, "Come, let us find this 'Friend of Red Jenny' and meet with the Enchanter so we can get back to Haven. This could be more complicated then we first anticipated."


	7. Chapter 7

The Imperial Enchanter's private salon was lavish indeed. Marble adorned the floor and most surfaces. Anywhere you turned there would be something either made of gold or gold plated. Vibrant banners and curtains draped the walls creating an air of elegance. Everything positively screamed 'MONEY!' and aristocracy.

In the foyer a servant stopped my companions and would only let me through. With a 'eh, what could go wrong' shrug to them, I continue inside. The footman announces my name, to which sets the party goers atwitter. A small group breaks from conversation to intercept my path.

"My, what a pleasure to meet you, Lady Herald. These gatherings tend to get dull with the same faces at every event."

"Yes, truly. Are you here as a guest of Madame de Fer or Duke Bastien?"

"Oh! Or are you here on business? I heard the most fascinating and curious tales of you. Surely half of them can't be true!"

_Wow, how to answer that without sounding like an imbecile._

"Sure are." _Please for the love of god, stop asking me questions...._

"Oh-ho! Better and better. I hope that the Inquisition attends more of these parties regularly. I'm sure there are plenty of stories to tell."

A loud guffaw from above as another gaudily dressed man descends the stairs to join us. "The Inquisition? PAH! What a load of pig shit. Who could take you seriously? A bunch of washed up sisters and a crazed seeker. We all know that it is a political maneuver to seize power by outcasts, why not be truthful and say so!"

There was one word I had learned recently and it was funny that I would get to use it now. Directing a scathing snort his way I reply, "Slander."

"HA! Really? So this outsider plans to restore peace with an army?" He closes the distance between us and tries to intimidate me by looming over me. "If you're a woman of honor, then you would step outside to answer these charges."

My initial retort was going to be 'bring it bitch!' but ice encases his body, making my reply a mute point.

Vivienne's sultry voice carries from above. "My dear Marquis, how unkind of you to use such language in my house....to my guest." Fluid like grace as she saunters to his petrified body. "You know such rudeness is...intolerable."

Fear practically seeps from him now. "Madame Vivienne, I humbly beg your pardon!"

"You should. Whatever am I going to do with you my dear?" Deep brown eyes meet my own, "My lady, you're the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?"

Nonchalantly I give my answer with a 'meh' gesture. "No matter."

"Aww. Poor Marquis, issuing challenges and hurling insults like some Fereldan dog lord." With a snap of her fingers she releases her magic, the Marquis coughing at the sudden change in temperature.

I tune out the remaining long winded public disgrace, waiting for my turn so I could go about getting other things done before the day was through.

Head down and utterly put in his place, the Marquis departs without another word.

"I'm delighted you could attend this little gathering. I've so wanted to meet you." With a wave of her hand, she beckons me to follow her to a secluded corner where we might talk privately.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court."

"Pleasure to meet you." Having memorized greetings as a priority.

A regal tilt of her head in acknowledgement. "I wanted to meet face to face. It is important to consider one's connections carefully. With Divine Justinia dead, the Chantry is in shambles. The Inquisition is the only organization who seems to care enough to restore sanity and order to the people." Vivienne cocks her hips to lean against the windowsill, a hint of posturing in her tone, "as the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I felt it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause."

I had gotten away with saying little and a line that I had forced myself to memorize early on. Nevertheless, something told me I would not get away with that again before I left. _Oh well, you may think differently when I open my mouth....._

"Vivienne honor Inquisition with help. Inquisition welcome help." Choosing to be diplomatic considering who I was talking with.

I was sure that the nonsense of being 'touched by Andraste' had reached her, but I suppose even she was not fully ready for my ineptitude, or maybe she did not put much stock in them. Her plastered on smile faltering a little at my words.

"So, it seems there is a grain of truth to the gossip. Though I do not think it was Andraste who is to blame for your lack of articulation. The Fade is a dangerous place, with all sorts of demons and traps. I would not be surprised if you met with some misfortune during your time there."

That was something I would not answer, better to let people assume what they wanted. Lies had a tendency to get away from you and if possible, I wanted to avoid it. "Maybe."

She studies me for a moment, as if I was a bug under a microscope. "Tell me, how does anyone understand you, darling?"

"Imagination." I reply dryly.

"Hmm. Indeed."

 

~~~

 

It. Was. A. Terrible. Map.

The buildings and alleyways depicted in the sketch could have been any number of places. At a certain point the layout of Val Royeaux was basically a copy-paste of itself the farther from the city market you traveled. A lesson we were finding out the hard way.

Night had fallen and we had stayed in Val Royeaux longer than we anticipated. Vivienne had already departed to Haven while we conducted our remaining 'business'. I had argued to continue searching as the hours passed but the lighting of torches to illuminate darkening streets signaled it was time for me to accept that maybe meeting Sera wasn't in the cards.

Calling a halt to the fruitless endeavor, we head in the general direction of the city center to find an inn for the night. An alley previously bypassed, or perhaps not-who knew at this point, had a suspicious amount of traffic for this time of night. We had intended to disregard it but when an archer draws his bow yelling, "It's the Herald!", our plans changed.

Mercenaries materialize seemingly out of the woodwork and it's an all out brawl in the streets.

Arrows are pinging off the barrier Solas envelops us in as we dodge for cover. Men with daggers and swords descend en masse, splitting us from each other.

Magic and bolts are flying every which way and it's unclear if all of it is friendly or not.

Being the obvious target for this assault, men converge on my location. I duck under a sword while punching my attacker in the stomach, sending him through neatly stacked crates. Footfalls behind alert me of an impending strike and I kick back, landing a solid hit to his sternum.  

Weapons raised, two mercenaries rush me at once. I hurl an energy ball at the face of the right one while stepping into the left man's attack. Wrapping my forearm over his elbow, I pivot my hips to dig into his, throwing him to the ground. I follow him down to pin his shoulder with my knee. Gathering magic I punch him hard in the throat, effectively taking him out of the fight.  

The second man rubs furiously at his eyes as he blindly stumbles to me. Sweeping my leg out, I collapse his knee out from under him. Crashing to the ground, wind knocked out of him, there is no time to block my enhanced stomp to his chest.

Audible cracks carry as his ribs break. I leave him there clutching his body, seeing no reason to continue.

Farther ahead Cassandra engages two heavy set mercenaries, using her shield to shove one away to side step the other. It's a deadly dance as she parries and thrusts, keeping them from flanking her. A third moves to ambush her from behind.

I ready magic, intending to stop him before he can, but strong arms from behind throw me against a wall.

Air rushes from my lungs at the impact. Locking my knees halts the downward slide on the wall. A beefy hand encloses my throat in a vicious grip, the other pulling back to strike.

_AH HELL NO! I'm not getting hit in the face again!_

Grabbing his wrist and forearm, I prepare to kick out with both feet. Our intended attacks are foiled when the butt of a staff strikes the side of the man's head, blood splattering in a graceful arc as he releases me.

Another flick of Solas' wrist and the sellsword stays down. He looks to me, a question in his eyes. Rubbing my sore throat I nod to show I was alright and we turn to finish the matter at hand.

It is a swift and grim task, only four still stand. They run when they realize they are the last, the others have already cleaned up the rest, leaving wounded and dead mercenaries up and down the street.

"Good thing these guys were amateurs. Would hate to see what would have happened otherwise. Andraste's ass that was a lot."

_No joke._

"It seems someone wants you dead. At the start I saw a small oddly dressed man run away, we should find him and see what he knows." Cassandra states.

Heading deeper into the winding alley, a ball of fire zings in front of my face. Another flare of light sails straight for me and I drop down to avoid it.

"HA HA! If it isn't the Herald of Andraste! So you have found me eh? Oh, how much it must have cost you to find me!" More pompous laughter and swagger as the little man places his hands on his hips.

_"Uhhh.....yeah...."_

"We don't even know who you are, Peacock."

He crosses his legs and strikes a pose. "HA! I won't be fooled! I'm too smart for that! My import is no small matter, there is no way you found me by accident!"

Grunts of pain closely followed by the thud of a solid mass falling are heard in the shadows.

Striding from the dark, Sera draws her bow, "just say 'What'!"

"What is the--" The fleshy thud as an arrow lodges in his throat silences him.

"Eww. Squishy one, but you heard me right? 'Just say what'. Rich tits always try for more than they deserve." Sera saunters to his body, pulling the arrow from his throat. "Blah, blah, blah! Obey me! Arrow to my face!" Straightening, she comes to stand in front of me. She looks me over and a slight sneer crosses her face. "Aaannndd, you're an elf... Well, hope you're not too 'elfy'." Her face clears and a smile surfaces to take its place. "I mean, it's all good innit? The important thing is: you glow. You're the Herald thingy."

_"Eh. Not my first choice, would have gone with something less messiah-y but,_ yes."

An answering snort chuckle comes from Sera. "Whoa, trippy. So you're weird in the head then. Not a big deal, we're all nutters sooner or later. You're a strange one, I'll give you that. I'd like to join. I want help this...whatever it is, I want to get everything back to normal, like you?"

Her energy is infectious and I grin in return. "Inquisition welcome you. Any help good."

"Wait, hold on a minute. We know next to nothing about her and she just killed that man. He may have been an idiot but this is still highly suspicious."

I twist to meet Cassandra's gaze, "trust, Cassandra. Please."

Long moments drag by, then she releases a strained sigh, "Very well. She may come with us."

Letting out a jubilant _whoop,_ Sera looks from Cassandra to me. "Yes! Get in good before you're too big to like. That'll keep your breeches where they should be. This'll be grand!"

Mood feeling much lighter, I lead our merry little band out of the alley. The prospect of a roof over my head and a bed off the ground calling to me.

"Sera, map bad."

"Oh that? Just found it and put an X on it. Worked out yeah?"

 

~~~

 

The familiarity of Haven was a welcome sight after weeks on the road. Having a proper bed and a space I could be alone to think and unwind sounded divine.

At the stables we scattered to go our separate ways, Cassandra heading straight to the Chantry to report to the advisors. With a promise I would be along shortly, I beeline to my home, still uncertain why I should be privy to those meetings. Yes having the anchor made me important, but that was only as a tool.

_Bah!_

Wearily I drop my equipment as I step in the door, debating if I wanted to unpack. Staring at it I decided if I wanted to have anything that wasn't covered in blood or sweat I would need to do it now rather than later.

Tipping the contents out, I toss anything washable in a pile and neatly stack my notes to be filed away for later.

Scanning the room for the bucket I had left, I was pleased to see that someone had caught on to my habits and filled the bucket with water for me. Even more than the water, the soap set aside was the best gift I could have wished for.

_Oh, you're going to be all mine later...Come to mama._

With a wistful sigh I dump as many clothes as I can in the bucket, adding a healthy dose of soap. Scrubbing, kneading, and wringing out as best I could, I throw them over a chair to dry together. I repeat it with everything until nothing is left and the water filthy. I empty the bucket and scoop fresh snow to melt by the fire prior to leaving for the Chantry.

The mundane task and time alone had allowed me to collect my thoughts and come up with an idea for handling Alexius. There was a gigantic possibility it would backfire, but it was the best shot to avoid being sucked into Future of Doom.

There was a crowd gathering in front of the Chantry as I ambled up the steps. Tension and hostility hanging thickly in the air. Even joining the Inquisition did not temper the enmity between dissenters from both the mage and templar factions. Each laying blame on the other for the state of things.

I stay at the edge watching while Cullen exits the Chantry to soothe the animosity. His presence and words have a much needed calming effect, bringing a tentative truce. That is, until Emperor Douche separates from the pack to rile shit up again.

"Chancellor, back so soon."

"Why, I am only here out of concern. I'm curious, Commander, how will your Inquisition and its 'Herald' restore order as you promised. Seems to me that all you have done is gather an army while the people still suffer."

"Of course you are." Cullen glares at the assembly still present, "All right, all of you, back to your duty!" Grumbling and huffing the men and women disperse.

Cullen remains outside to speak with Roderick, I catch a little when I walk forward.

"--rebel Inquisition and it's so called 'Herald of Andraste'? I think not."

Cullen turns to me in obvious relief upon seeing me. "Herald. We were just about to start the meeting."

"Hmph! 'Herald' indeed. Murderer and thug more like."

"Chancellor Bitch-Face." I say in way of greeting, wanting to high five Sera for teaching me cuss words. "Let go, Cullen."

A choked laugh escapes Cullen while Roderick's offended sputtering trails us inside.

Cullen walks beside me, Cassandra and the other advisors falling in as we move to the war room. "It's a shame that the templars have abandoned their duty and the capital. It is something I did not think I would ever witness. Small deserters surely, but not a full break."

"Neither did I, Cullen. Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember."

"If that is true, Cassandra, then added to my reports, it seems there is something very...odd, happening within the Order."

"Then we should look into it. Not everyone in the Order would support this choice of the Lord Seeker's."

Quiet until now, Josephine pipes in with the decision I was going to make anyway. "Or...we could meet with the mages. They are not as disorganized as the templars and so far there have been no reports of suspicious activity like the templars."

"What?! You think the rebellion is a better idea? Just because we haven't heard anything does not mean they are not ten times worse!" Cullen vehemently defends.

Cassandra puts herself between the heated debate, bringing a voice of reason. "Whatever we decide, it should be soon and we will do it together."

Leliana thoughtfully eyes me, "You have been silent Herald, what do you propose? You have seen and met with both parties, you and Cassandra would know better than we who would be a more stable choice."   

"Mages. Good suit, deserve Inquisition help. Deserve chance." Firmly stating my stance.

"They are powerful, but they are also desperate, maybe more so than we realize, Herald."

"Everyone desperate, Cassandra. No desperate would suspicious." I counter.

She considers for a moment, "Perhaps you may be right. I fear my judgment could be clouded on the subject. If you feel this is right, then I will trust you."

"The majority falls to meeting the rebels then." Josephine notes.

Throwing his hands in the air, "Bah! Fine. I pray this is not a mistake."

Setting my own plan in motion, I face Leliana, "Leliana, scouts follow, hide. May need."

"Agreed, it would not hurt to err on the side of caution. I will send Harding and some of my best. Also, I would suggest you find a Grey Warden that was recruiting in the area. The Warden's have gone silent and seemingly vanished in thin air. The timing is very curious... This Warden may know what is happening."

"Yes."

"Good. I will send word to my men, they will be ready when you arrive in Redcliffe. Take some time for yourselves before you leave. Your group has had little rest by the looks of it." Effectively dismissing us and ending the meeting.

Cullen's stern voice halts everyone from dispersing, "Wait, there is one more item to discuss." He looks from Leliana to Josephine before finally turning to me. "We did not want to press the issue, but seeing as you have grasped Common relatively well, we must ask. When we found you, you did not speak any language anyone had heard before. You're a mage, and yet it seems you have to relearn magic. Why is this?"

So, it was time. They were tired of waiting and would seek answers.

"No sure." Truthful enough and technically not a lie. I did not know how I got here and why I had the bad luck to fall into a world that didn't know English.

It was not the answer they were looking for, I could see it.

"Solas said that time in the Fade could alter a person. It is the Fade, anything is possible. Since there has never been a case before and nothing to compare it to, Solas' theory may be the closest thing we will get to an answer." Cassandra provides for me.

_Hmm, my companions have been speaking about me then, guess that's why no one asked me anything. Interesting. Even more so is that he covered for me. No way that such a simple explanation would fly with him, plus he knows better. Though have to give him props, gave a theory without lying, just a lot of 'could be's' and let them fill in the rest. It was what I had planned to do with them anyway. Solas just took care of it for me, suppose I have to thank him for that._

"I for one, accept you as you are. Your mind is clear, and based off what I have heard so far, you have been a great help to people and closing the rifts." Josephine's words are met with agreement from the other advisors.

"Thank you."

The matter of my acceptance seemingly put to rest, our meeting adjourns and I take my leave.

Inhaling deeply when I exit the Chantry, I ponder my next move.


	8. Chapter 8

Three days of respite was turning out to be too much for me. Instead of the relief it was intended to be, it had morphed into an internal war against myself.

Initially I avoided Solas' hut due to the imminent mental battle sure to come and because I figured he could use some time alone. Frankly, we had just spent weeks together with no reprieve. All well and good, until I noticed something.

I missed his presence, it had been a constant source of intrigue during our travel, but now that it was gone, I could feel just how much pull it had, the magnetism of it. I wanted to talk with him without the prying eyes and curious busybodies. I wanted to get to know him, listen to his stories, ask my own questions...

Without knowing it, I had found myself yearning to seek his company.

_UGH! Longing?! Me?! Pining for a man? PAH! I'm almost thirty for fuck's sake! Wait, no, he's not even real!_

_ARGHHHH!!_

So began three days of pummeling the living crap out of dummies in the yard.

Though my tendency to miss and light things on fire or explode them was over, the other soldiers still gave me a wide berth. News of my aggression must have gotten around, or maybe she was just curious about me, but Vivienne came to join me one day.

"My dear, you really should use a staff. The likelihood of a magical backlash is much smaller. Also, I have been told you do not know how to heal, or even create a proper barrier. Such necessary skills cannot be overlooked. I would be remiss if I failed to impart these important lessons on you."

The roar of uncontrollable laughter carries from the edge of the yard. "I wouldn't if I were you. Chuckles tried already and let's just say...it did not end well. For anyone...especially the forest."

"Varric, darling, I am not the First Enchanter for nothing. A lowly apostate would certainly have trouble educating another. Why, I could teach a nug to weave tapestries if I was so inclined."

Hands raised, "don't say I never warned you."

"Now, my dear, to form a barrier...."

~

Embers and small flaming pieces of target lay scattered over the ash covered ground. A crater occupying the space where the dummy once stood.

Vivienne studies the debris with incredulity, "...It would appear delicate magic is not your forte. Fear not, you have other talents...There is no shame in it. Though, perhaps you should stick with what you excel at, my dear. "

"That would be destruction. Destruction and chaos." Varric teases good naturedly.

"Good with that." Laughing and extremely proud at the description.

~

Nights were a tougher test of will.

Instinct beckoned me to unravel the mysteries surrounding Solas and explore my fascination. Common sense warned I was treading a thin line and in danger of crossing it.

In sleep, even as I battered it down, my consciousness still reached for him. Dreams had so far alluded me during my time in Thedas, physical and mental exhaustion dragging me into dreamless slumber. It was the flashes of color and prodding of something at the darkness of oblivion that alerted me of my mind building a connection to the fade.

The revelation brought with it the knowledge that I would have to seek counsel on how to control it. Mages and unwary visitors to the Fade were susceptible to danger, I was not naive enough to believe I would be an exception, even with the understanding that it was all dependent on perception. Vivienne or any other mage could provide a solution, but none had the level of understanding that Solas did.

I prayed that I could hold the Fade at bay until I reached Skyhold, either I found the way home or I would let go and allow myself to crash and burn.

The day of our departure for Redcliffe ended my mental torture and I could enjoy Solas' company with the lie that it did not matter in the slightest he was there. Nope, I most certainly did not feel a sense of fluttery giddiness.

~~~~ 

_Ah, the Hinterlands...You're the hellish gift that keeps giving. Feels like I shall never get away from you..._

Our growing squad of awesome studies the map given to us by one of Harding's subordinates. The apostate mages had continued to be a nuisance even with the templars gone and the people had turned to us for help once again.

With Blackwall having joined our merry band, it was another voice to argue saving the helpless and solving all of Thedas' problems. Considering I said that we could take care of the mages when we returned in my haste to leave the Hinterlands, I couldn't very well backtrack to say 'nah, they'll be fine...' A choice of words I was kicking myself for now.

So here we were, debating the advantages of taking one route over another to reach their lair. Thedas Police on the case.

The path knifing through the hills would take us to them with less loss of time, but provided more areas for an ambush. I had lost count of how much shit had jumped us, so the probability did not particularly worry me. Added to the bonus of having more people with us, I was of the opinion to go in guns blazing.

Letting the seasoned professionals decide, I wander over to Sera and sit down in the grass, stretching my legs.

"They're all up in arms still aren't they? Bleh! They wave their flaming balls of shite and we hit 'em back, simple yeah?"

I lay back with a chuckle, threading my fingers behind my head and crossing my ankles. "Best relax, might long."

A long winded raspberry sounds next to me and we fall into a comfortable silence. "Sooo...Lady Herald, I've seen you eyeing the apostate, or should I say, everything butt. Nhahaha, butt...."

Full laughter now while warmth crosses my cheeks at being caught, "No such thing, look hills."

"If by hills you mean thigh-"

A choked giggle escapes me when Blackwall calls over, "Ladies, we're ready, path it is."

We gather our packs without another word and march for the trail.

The mood grows somber and tense as we make our way through the hills, scanning for any hint of a trap. Dropping temperatures and chill winds buffeting our bodies the deeper in we progress puts everyone on edge. The unseasonably cold air is explained when we crest the path, giant pillars of ice jut from the ground, growing more frequent the closer to the hideout we become.

Mumbling voices carry over the unnatural silence broken only by the cracking of ice. Ever so cautiously the warriors ready themselves, everyone else staying close behind to offer backup.

Taking the curve in the trail, an area of frozen earth and columns cover the once open passage before us.

Four men sociably chat in a semi-circle, unaware of death descending. Magic, arrows, and bolts rend their forms with nary a noise, only the weighty thump as they fall alerts the apostates of our assault.

Warning shouts go up from men previously hidden by frozen pillars. A wall of ice against the mountainside vanishes, revealing a cavern entrance. Mages and hired sellswords filtering out to join those already in the icy passage.

Sparks of energy rain over the ice covered land, zeroing on the group with lethal intent.

Brilliant shimmers of light engulf us, endeavoring to block the explosions of magic. An unfamiliar crisp and cool prickle of energy mixed with a sense of tightly held control marks Vivienne's magic. The other is unmistakable, my inexplicable desire to caress the gentle heat, be consumed by it, is something I could never confuse for another's.

We had made a grave mistake, the reports had been wrong. The dozen it should have been was closer to twenty odd at least. Rigid and determined expressions etched in my companions faces tell me they know we cannot win but with no safe way to escape, fight was the only option.

Blackwall and Cassandra raise their shields, placing themselves forward and slightly apart, readying for the bombardment when the barriers fail.

The apostates adopt a similar approach, shielding the mercenaries from Varric and Sera's shots while picking at our barrier. They know they hold the advantage, they need only wait us out.

Staring at the formation of men and massive collective barrier covering them, I formulate an idea. I didn't know if it was even possible to do it or if it would work, only having a vague theory based off my disastrous lessons in barriers and healing. Nevertheless, it was worth a shot.

"No stop. No matter what." I command Solas and Vivienne before moving to the very edge of the barrier between the warriors, barely staying inside.

_I can do this, this is a world of magic, why can't I shape it as I wish? Magic comes from the Fade, it's all about willing something into being. I might not have been taught how to wield magic, but that just means I'm not constrained to their way of thinking. No one is as stupidly stubborn as me! This. can. work!_

"Wait, what?"

"What are you doing?"

"Herald! Stay behind us, it is not over yet. We can win this fight."

A multitude of questions and voices directed at me but I ignored them all. Focusing instead at the energies swirling and zipping to answer summons.

Straining, I seize those strands first, a small play of tug-of-war before they gather to my right hand. Wisps of magic not close to our barrier get snatched next, forcing them to cooperate and bundle together. It feels as though the energies are violently colliding and ricocheting, straining against the confines around my hand.

Slashes of searing pain slither up my forearm. Driving me to grind my teeth to block it out.

It's still not enough, not for what I wanted. I grasp more from the area, even those I tentatively feel farther away.

It's a desolate wasteland of reality when I step from safety. Magical energies continue to sparingly zing across the ice, shattering into the barrier.

_"SUCK ON THIS!"_ With a fierce yell I drop to a knee and strike down as hard as I can, directing everything into the ground and at the enemy.

The atmosphere stills, bringing a sense of weightlessness as a soundless vacuum envelops the area for eerie seconds. A thunderous maelstrom of magic destroys it, sundering earth and air to cleave into the apostate's collective barrier.

Stunned shrieks of agony consume the clearing as their protection is blown away and bodies are thrown and ripped apart. Apostates and mercenaries still alive are scattered, their formation broken by the chaos.

I remain kneeling, wheezing heavily as intense nausea and drained strength keep me down. Wet warmth covers my right forearm, the dizziness is overwhelming and threatening to send me face first into broken stone.

Cassandra and Blackwall rush forward to press the advantage, the others stand over me, offering solidarity and protection.

Their voices are muddled and unintelligible as I battle the need to either vomit or faint, or both. My sluggish brain scans the ice, calculating how many enemies still stand. It's not enough to cause worry and I plop ungracefully into a sitting position, head hanging.

Taking deep breathes in and then holding it, I get my breathing under control. Opening my eyes, I shift my gaze to study my arm. Gashes run from hand to elbow, like I had been clawed. I place my left hand over the wounds in a futile attempt to stem the flow.

Two different magical energies slide over my arm, causing me to look up. The skirmish had been won while I sat on the ground like a weakling, burdening the team. A deep feeling of shame surfaces as the warriors join us.

Blackwall twists and turns to study the landscape, "Never seen that before. I didn't know mages could do that."

"Creepy magic shite is creepy. I like you Herald, but the things you mages can do is scary." Sera declares.

"Normally mages would have to turn to blood magic or ingest a large quantity of lyrium to perform a spell of that magnitude. However, it seems our dear Herald was able to accomplish it by sheer will and stupidity. Though you did not get away completely unscathed, you look absolutely dreadful, darling."

Solas squats down next to me, handing me a lyrium bottle, "Here, drink this. You will feel better after. They were rash, but your actions saved us. I would suggest you not try it again however, you were lucky the repercussions were not worse." A touch of reprimand in his tone.

"For once, I must agree with the apostate. Mana imbalance and some scratches are a slap on the wrist compared to what could have happened. It's astounding you did not kill yourself, or worse, take us with you."

"Will more careful. " Slightly embarrassed for being scolded like a teenager in front of everyone by Vivienne and Solas. Though I was not sorry for doing it, and would certainly do it again. This was a useful ability and it fueled my theory that as long as you had magical capability, your willpower determined what you could accomplish. If mana truly was the measurement of an individual's ability to channel energy from the Fade, then it was just like muscles. It could be taught, it could be improved, strengthened. And if I was going to be here for awhile, no way was I going to be idle.

That thought brought forth another question, what I was 'feeling' in the air, was that magic that had already drifted through the Veil? Or was I perceiving a fraction of the Fade even in the waking world and just grabbing blindly at it? If that latter was the case, then I had a ways to go still just when I believed I was getting the hang of things.

_Sobering thought, that._

"The important thing is, you helped us greatly. Thank you. Without it, not everyone would have made it. You're young, you're learning and allowed to make mistakes." Cassandra supplies gently.

_Young?_

I raise a brow at that.

"Well, I think you did just fine there, Glow Bug. Things should calm down here now regardless. What do you say about getting the hell out of here and seeing what the mages in Redcliffe want?" Good old Varric breaking the awkwardness.

"Yes! Finally, let's get out of this wonky mess. Makes me think a frost giant barfed out here and we decided to play in it."


	9. Chapter 9

Redcliffe felt god damn icky. Wrongness practically oozed from the rift blocking the gatehouse. Proximity to the rift brought the sensation of twisting and being pulled into a lethargic vortex.

The team forms a loose perimeter to allow me to seal it without being disturbed. Having not recovered fully still, it was a challenge to accomplish. My energy levels lackluster at best, a lingering side effect of mana imbalance apparently.

"The magical energy here is different in a way I have not seen. Something has warped it." Observes Solas, positively fascinated.

_Oh, you have no idea...Bet your going to love this part, it's like someone waving treats in front of you. If you had a tail I'm sure it would be wagging excitedly._

Sera's face contorts into a disgusted grimace. "Urgh! Well you can stuff your 'magical energy'. Makes my arse itch."

"This rift felt like I was being pulled in, like the world around me was slowing down, altering. That rift was not normal, something is happening here."

_Super close there Cassandra....._

An Inquisition soldier jogs through the rising gate, "Lady Herald, Lady Seeker, there is something amiss here. When we arrived to bring news of your coming, they denied knowing of any meeting. They seemed confused as to our presence."

"Scouts inside?" I demand. _For the love of God, be in there...._

"Yes, my lady. They sneaked in while the rest of us occupied the guard. There is something else Herald. Tevinter mages hold control of Redcliffe. When we tried to contact the Grand Enchanter, a messenger of the Magister bid you to speak with him instead."

"What?! A Tevinter Magister is here? That can't be right. How could they have possibly gotten here before us?" News of Tevinter's interference clearly shocking Cassandra. I could see the wheels turning as explanations and scenarios were discarded to find the answer. But I knew that they wouldn't link time travel to Alexius' prompt arrival.

"Speak of the devil." Blackwall remarks with a tilt of his head as a messenger trots down the cobbled road to reach us.

Out of breath the man halts in front of us. "My sincere apologies agents of the Inquisition. Magister Alexius is in charge now, but has yet to arrive. He bids you wait at the tavern and will be along shortly. The Grand Enchanter has been charged with occupying you in the meantime." He makes a small bow as he steps to the side, "If you would come this way."

He leads us down a long winding road, past homes and huts, past the milling people, an atmosphere of defeat and melancholy clinging to them.

Subtly I scan the crowds and buildings, looking for any indication of the scouts. The Gull and Lantern looms feet ahead with not even a hint of their presence.

Heart beating a mile a minute and rising anxiety choking me, I stride into the tavern. Gaze raking the tables searching for Fiona, it slides past a tiny hunched figure in the corner. My eyes stutter to a halt and zip back to see that they were not playing a trick on me, it was indeed Harding blending in. If she was here, then the others were somewhere nearby.

Extreme relief washes over me and just like that, my anxiety dissipates.

Fiona's coldly stern voice calls me to her, bringing me back to focus on the task at hand. "Agents of the Inquisition. Welcome. Tell me, what brings your people to Redcliffe?"

"Your help." I settle on replying.

"You invited us here from Val Royeaux did you not? Do not play games, why is there a magister here?" Obviously not in the mood to be coy.

"Lady Seeker, you are mistaken. I do not know what you are referring to. I have not set foot in Val Royeaux since before the Conclave. As for helping the Inquisition, well.. I am not in a position to offer aid. Regardless, things are...complicated. We free mages have pledged our support and service to the Tevinter Imperium."

Cassandra shakes her head disbelievingly, "You made an alliance with Tevinter? It would turn all of Thedas against you."

"I'm trying to think of a worse thing you could have done...and I'm coming up empty, that tells you something. Andraste's ass...what a mess."

Unsurprisingly Solas' disappointed timbre joins in. "I understand the mages are afraid, but siding with Tevinter is not the answer. Your people deserve better than slavery."

"It is a moot point now. When Justinia died, all hope for peace died with her. This -this bargain with Tevinter, it would not have been my first choice, but there was no other way. I had to save as many people as I could. The deal has been struck and as one who is indentured to a magister, I cannot help you."

"She is right." Alexius intercedes from the tavern door. Felix and a few other mages flank him as he comes to stand in front of me. "My friends, sorry for the late entrance, I apologize I could not greet you earlier."

"Agents of the Inquisition, allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius." Veiled scorn in every word.

He smirks triumphantly down at me, "The Southern mages are under Tevinter command. So you will be dealing with me. You must be the survivor, yes? The one from the Fade...most interesting indeed."

"Let deal then."

"You're a reasonable woman it seems." He turns away from me to gesture to a nearby table. I look to Harding and mouth to get ready.

Alexius sits and thinking better of it, I perch on the edge of the table, close to him. I eye him over, searching for the amulet.

"Would you not prefer to sit? I was under the impression you wanted to deal." Evident suspicion at my close proximity.

"Yes, we deal." I say as I run my hand over the table and lean in to his personal space.

_I don't see it..._

Alexius snorts disgustedly at me, "you think to seduce me? Do you think it will make the terms more equitable?"

I smile sweetly at him as I run my left hand up his arm. "No." His sneer faltering at my reply. Fervently praying that everyone would be fast on the uptake, I grab him behind his head and slam it down on the table.

Not the best of ideas, but this seemed like the only time Alexius could be taken down.

Crashes from furniture breaking and grunts of bodies colliding have me shifting my gaze behind. The scouts and those of my team who came inside have the situation firmly in hand. Using my diverted attention, Alexius shoves me back. I land on my ass hard and a swirling mass of blue-green magic has me looking up in horror.

I throw my left hand up in an attempt to stop it as bright light pierces my eyes. _"SON OF A-"_

_"-BITCH!"_ My yell echoing in the damp cell, taunting me.

_Where the hell did he pull that amulet from?! His asshole?!_

_"GODDAMNIT! FUCK THIS SHIT! FUCK YOU, THEDAS! FUUUCCKKKK!!!"_ I scream in frustrated rage, kicking up water and anything else drifting in my vicinity.

Hurried sloshing nears the cell, guards coming to investigate the sounds of raving no doubt.

"Blood of the-" One is able to get out as I unleash blasts of energy at both their heads, in no mood for mercy. It's enough to crush their helmets and their necks bend at an odd angle as they splash into the murky water.

I close my eyes and deeply inhale, repeating it for a few minutes to calm my anger. Soothed somewhat, I focus at the matter at hand.

_Alright, Future of Doom. I'm by myself so this makes crap a lot more difficult._ Releasing a puff of air, _the only chance I have is to find someone still alive, so... dungeon crawling it is!_

Nervously eyeballing the red lyrium everywhere, I step over the floating bodies and make my way out of the cell. The halls are straightforward thankfully, except for the few instances where the path was blocked by pillars of red which I was not about to crawl over, forcing me to find an alternate doorway.

Sing-song-y chants filter from a spacious corridor ahead. Drawing a blade, I peek inside to investigate. It's empty except for cells along the walls. An elven mage stands vacantly repeating the same chant over and over again.

_"Tsk. Whelp, that's not creepy or crazy at all. You just keep at it."_

A steep stairwell leading up is the only way forward. Voices can be heard coming from above and I climb on all fours to stay hidden. Reaching the top and peeking my head over the first step, I spot three Venatori with their backs turned, chatting together and laughing at shared jokes.

Deciding not to chance it alone unless forced, I silently bear walk past them to one of the side doors going down.

This part of the dungeon was worse for wear then what I had come through. Many of the halls and doors were so busted or blocked with rubble or lyrium that passage was impossible. Throwing open a door I was sure was going to be vacant like the last dozen, I jumped when I heard a voice call out from the shadows.

"Is someone there?"

My heart felt like it stuttered to a stop for a second at the sound. _No...no, no, no..._

Hesitant steps take me to stand in front of a lone cell.

Solas' shocked expression is one mirrored by my own, though why I should be, I did not know. I knew that if anyone had survived in this timeline that they would be infected, I suppose I just did not want to be faced with it happening to him.

"You're alive!" He shakes his head in disbelief, as though he is questioning his vision, "We saw you die."

Giving the lock a good magical shove to break it, I debate how best to convey what had happened.

Scrunching my brows in concentration, I attempt to string as much coherency as possible, knowing my life depended on it. "No. Rift open time forward. Alexius amulet open rift time back, send me." Cursing my verbal skills anew.

"Traveling through time..." He mulls over this piece of information. "If we could reverse this process...Yes, it may not be too late. You could stop this from happening. There are things you must-"

Moving to stand as close as I dared, I stare into eyes now corrupted by blight. "Solas. I. Know. Celene die, demon army."

"How-"

"I know...Dread Wolf."

This stops him cold. Never had I seen a look of such stunned astonishment.

"I know beginning."

"How could you know this? Why would you say nothing if you knew? Let me travel with you?" There is no anger in his gaze, only bewilderment, as though it was incomprehensible that anyone would accept him and the truth and still stand with him.

I saw no reason to lie, to myself or to him, either this world would die when I went back, or we all did if it failed. "Like you. Like you very much."

It was clearly not the response he was expecting, his eyes widen and his mouth opens and closes wordlessly as speech eludes him.

_The man with endless thoughts and ideas is speechless!_ His reaction leaves me laughing and taking pity on him I ask, "others alive? Will need help."

Shutting his mouth, he clears his throat and accepts the change in subject. Knowing as I did that anything said or done now would be a moot point. "I believe so. Venatori have been frequently coming and going farther in."

_"Alright. Let's get to it then."_ Leading the way out into the corridor and heading down more steps.

"You know who I am, yet you are not afraid of me. You're not as you appear. Will you tell me now?"

_"Can you understand any of this?"_

"Some. I remember your notes, and watched as you put them together." I can't help but grin at his ingenuity.

_Knew it, sneaky bastard._

_"I came from another world, completely different from yours. Something brought me to it and I still have no clue what it was. Where I'm from, we knew of the events during Corypheus' rise to power, and your aid in it. I also know about your desire to destroy the Veil."_

Silence greets my admission and I turn to study Solas, wondering just how much he caught. Most of it by the look on his face.

"How do your people know?"

An astute question, and one I was not going to answer for him. There was enough to deal with without dumping 'well, basically my people are your creators? Cool huh?'. Yeah, not going there.

Instead I ask what I actually wanted, no, _needed_ , to know. _"The Veil, why does it have to come down so badly? Why would you cloak yourself with a title you don't want?"_

"You do not know that already? Then it is something that will die along with this world. There is no reason to weight you with the truth. It is my mistake, my burden to fix."

_"No, you are making it 'only' your problem. There are people who would help you, care for you. Help you to find the best solution. Why would you push them away? I mean, yeah they are all gremlins to you but you care for them regardless."_

"This is not a subject for debate. You would not understand."

_"Then help me understand! Of course I have no clue, you refuse to be reasonable and explain, you giant turd!"_ Throwing my hands in the air at his sheer stubbornness.

Whatever retort he would have made is cut off by the sound of our companions calling from the cells ahead.

"Who's there?"

"Herald? Is that you? By the Maker! You are still alive! How? How is this possible? Has Andraste given us another chance?" Cassandra asks, a flicker of hope coming to her eyes.

"Solas explain." Trusting he would do just that as I move down to open Blackwall's cell.

Mixed expressions of anger and optimism cover the warriors' faces once the situation of the amulet and time travel is retold.

"All that death...the lives lost, and for what?"

"You mean we can make it so that none of this ever took place? Andraste let this be true. We must find Alexius, I have heard the guards say he stays in the throne room most days."

"Good. Let go then." Quirking a brow at Solas as I pass in challenge. This discussion wasn't over and I would get answers one way or another. If not from future Solas, then still ignorant past Solas. I would show him who was the biggest stubborn ass around.


	10. Chapter 10

Fighting our way out of the dungeons had proven to be a bitch. Venatori had poured from the barracks to search the cells for the intruder responsible for killing two guards. Surprising us when we emerged from below to find a squadron waiting for us. Unfortunately for them however, they met us in a room with a deep cavernous pit.

Making a choke point and bowling into them to drop them down had been the simple part. Keeping up with the physical and mental demand of dealing with the absurd amount of enemies had been a different matter, even with the Breach surrounding Redcliffe to add a major magic boost.

I was still not over the disconnect of Solas' magic, body jolting with every brush against it or barrier covering me. The taint of blight had changed it, giving it an angry, tortured quality. It wasn't fear or nervousness that made me unconsciously react so, it was the sensation of unfamiliar energies ghosting over me and having to remind myself it was only Solas.

"Is everybody alright?" Blackwall huffs out between heaving breathes.

Grunts of assent and varying mumbled affirmatives project across the bloody room. Tiredly shuffling together, we pick our way over the mutilated bodies, ascending the stairs to the barracks.

The quarters were devoid of life, all the men and women present having met their end in the damp shadows of the dungeon. Poultices and potions litter tables and counters, easily accessible in case of demons or if a rift opens nearby. We snatch anything useful, gulping down lyrium and health elixirs to get us through whatever's next as we exit.

Unable to leave well enough alone and because no one was around to pummel our faces in at the moment, I ask, "Solas, _what happens if I tell you what I know? Your past self I mean. What would you do?"_

"Leave." He replies simply, voice quiet.

It halts me in my tracks, not being what I expected. _"Why?"_

"Your brash, headstrong, but you see more than most and pretend otherwise. The knowledge you hold is dangerous, you would piece together the truth eventually." A touch of sadness enters his tone as his eyes meet mine. "Your nature... your acceptance, it is not what expected to find. I would not want to take the chance of dragging you with me."

His self imposed guilt and punishment angers me, feeling in my gut that he deserved better. Something I couldn't place told me that he, more than anyone, needed a second chance, a future. I didn't know why it mattered, I wasn't planning on staying long enough to do anything for anyone. I knew he had only known me for a short time, and even then it was not much due to my ineptitude, but I could not help the emotion bubbling within me. The frustration at his lack of trust in his friends, in me, color's my response.

_"Even after all your mistakes, you think you're the only one with all the answers. The people of modern Thedas will oppose you, and it will be based on limited knowledge. In trying to right your perceived wrongs, to save 'your people'; save your world, you may be committing to its demise."_

"Do you believe the people of Thedas will welcome the change bringing the Veil down will cause? That they will rejoice, even if it is to save them? They will lament lives lost and everything that they have ever known. Blaming the perpetrator and any who stand with them." Bitterness and anger in every word.

Any rebuttal I would've had dies. He was right, I knew he was. If nothing else, the history of Thedas had shown that stories, the people; all were warped as time passed. Accounts changed and mangled to suit some power's needs. When faced with imminent destruction, Thedas might hail whoever saved them but as the fear ebbed and a new normalcy takes its place, they would start to lay blame.

There was nothing I could say and we stare at each other, at an impasse.

"What's going on? Why would the Veil gone save us?"

"You can understand that, Solas?"

They had been watching the impassioned exchange in confusion and silence but mention of the Veil was something they would not be able to let pass.

Shaking his head, Solas brings everyone to the task at hand. "It does not matter now. We must get to the amulet and undo all of this."

When their mouths open to argue, I stride forward, continuing down the lyrium lined hallway to emphasize the conversation was done.

Muffled speech reaches us from a door at the end of the ruined corridor, giving us pause.

"-sacrifice at the temple? Answer me!"

"Fuck you."

Strangled cries of pain filter through the wood. Cassandra steps to the door, hand on the iron knob, motioning for us to get ready to breach the room.

"Your continued defiance is futile. There is no one left, your forces are in shambles. I _will_ break you, little Nightingale."

Throwing open the door, we rush inside, preparing to fight.

"Not before you." Leliana coldly states as the man turns at the interruption. Using her chained wrists as leverage, she wraps her thighs around his neck and cruelly twists. A choked gag and snap escapes him before she relinquishes her hold.

"Maker, you're alive."

"Yes."

Fumbling through the fallen Venatori's clothes to find a key, I ask, "no question? No surprise?" Curious as to why I was not being peppered with questions to my miraculous appearance.

"No. It does not matter how you got here or why now."

_Well, okay then, shutting up._

Too short to reach the locks even on tip toes, I hand the key ring to Cassandra. "We must get to the throne room, Leliana, there is a way to change all this. We could use your help." She supplies.

Leliana snorts bitterly. "And mages wonder why they are feared. No one should have that kind of power. I will come with you, if there is a chance for revenge, I will take it."

Hearing her animosity and lack of hope made me want to say 'please don't shank me', but I wisely keep my mouth shut. We give her time to rummage for weapons and arm herself, asking no more of her. The passageways are oddly deserted and the lack of people actually makes me more twitchy. Even the antechamber leading out to the docks is empty. Finding it weird that it was smooth sailing, but not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I march towards the iron dockyard gate.

And right into an emerging rift.

_"OH SHIT!"_ Hurriedly backpedaling into arms that set me behind them.

Using his body as a buffer, Solas shields me from the incoming demons, allowing me unhindered access to the rift, while the others run to create a first line of defense to hold them back. The angry buzz and vibration of the anchor as I seal the rift is stronger than normal, leading me to assume the Breach was affecting them too.

With a pop and splattering of bright green the rift snaps shut. I rub my palm over my thigh to try to ease the irritated hum of the anchor, waiting as Blackwall turns the crank to open the gate.

"It is the tear in the Veil, it gives them more purchase in the world." Staring pointedly at the anchor.

_"Can you do anything about it?"_

"I can do little as I am. The taint has warped my magic."

_"No worries, it's just a little annoying that's all, it's easily ignored."_ I lie with a smile, not wanting to make him feel bad.

The docks were no trouble to get out of, other than the two crazy faces who thought it was a good idea to become possessed and changed into Shade demons. It must have been a common occurrence because my companions never batted an eye.

Guess at that point if people didn't become possessed then it would be surprising.

Out in the courtyard I'm frozen in place at the sight of the sky. It looked like what I assumed the Fade would, an array of greens and blues and floating lands, the thrum of energy disorienting and all consuming. Staring up at the heavens, it felt as though I was falling, dreaming, being pulled closer.

"The Breach has spread over most of Redcliffe. It's affects are felt everywhere." Cassandra explains, rousing me from my trance.

Scaffolding and wood lay scattered among pillars of red lyrium , as if workers had tried to repair the walls before demons had run them off. The stairs ahead was teaming with Shades, blocking the way to the rift from which they spawned.

With little option, we charge forward.

There was only enough space for two to comfortably fight on the stairs, so I hang behind, throwing pop shots over the warriors' heads at Shades higher up. Disintegrated demon pieces shower me from above as those that tried to jump down are blown away by magic and arrows.

We push harder as more come through the rift, knowing that it wouldn't end as long as it remained open.

Close to the top, I jog up the steps two at a time to move between the warriors. Taking the demon in front of me by the wrist as it swipes out, I toss it over my shoulder behind us, sure that Solas or Leliana would finish it. Two more move to take its place and with a twist of my wrists, I send potent energy straight at them to shove them back. It creates a small gap and I hastily trot up to the landing, leaving the others behind.

_Aw ballsack...._

There was more demons drifting around the rift than expected, way too many for me to handle alone. Left with no choice but to stay moving, I sprint past Shades, shooting out magic as quick as I can while ducking or sliding under those that were too fast to hit.

Prepared for what I knew was coming, I viciously tug and meld the edges of the rift to seal it, all the while never stopping in my run. Prepared or not, with the snap of a successful close, my hand is racked with pain and I crash to the stone. The scream threatening to tear from my lips is only held in by pure determination and the digging of my forehead into the hard stone to focus elsewhere.

Gradually it subsides and I take gasping breathes as I relax my body.

Solas is kneeling next to me when I shift to sit up, brow furrowed and intense concentration on his face. The others linger in a semi-circle nearby, evidently worried.

"You left us behind, it was incredibly foolish. What if something had happened, if we could not reach you?"

"Cassandra is right. All of this would have been for nothing. You carry the fate of the world on you, Herald, your life is not your own." Leliana chides.

I stand to my full height, locking unyielding eyes on her, "Life all way mine, Leliana, no matter happen." I would not lose sight of myself, I would not give up who I was to suit someone's purpose.

"There are enough opponents to fight without adding ourselves." Breaking the tension and drawing us to focus on what was important.

Blackwall was correct, there was still another rift in between us and the keep, not to mention anyone inside protecting the throne room. Arguing was a waste of energy and time, both of which was running on steam.

I incline my head in acquiesce, letting the issue drop. A heartbeat more and Leliana stiffly concurs.

Eyeing the castle door and rift, I saw no reason to fight and tire ourselves out more. We only needed to push our way through, it wasn't like leaving the rift was going to hurt anything at this point. And honestly, I wasn't too thrilled to wave the anchor around more than necessary here.

"Ignore demons, make door."

Yeses and nods of agreement answer my suggestion. The fact my proposal was accepted so readily told me how exhausted they must have been and I take the lead, force ramming demons back to give everyone a breather.

Demons pursued us into the keep to which I shoved them into walls as we kept a steady pace forward, allowing us to eventually get out of the rift's perimeter and leave us unmolested for a moment. We sit down on rubble and against walls to catch our breath and rest. Clanking of metal, shrieks and screams of demons and men carry through the hallways from further in.

"Sounds like we are not the only ones dealing with demons."

"Is there another way to reach Alexius?"

"Yes, but the grand hall is the most direct route. We can use the turmoil to our advantage and slip past."

Cassandra stands resolutely and glances to the rest of us, "then let us end this, one way or the other. Herald, our lives are in your hands."

_Yeah, no pressure._

"Ready." Swallowing down the anxiety.

I flex my fingers on the hilt of my dagger as we follow the sounds of conflict and death.

The grand hall was so much worse than I imagined. Ever present red lyrium jutted from walls and burst from the floor to create a huge central column to the ceiling. Stone pillars lay cracked and shattered over once smooth tile and stairs, obstructing our path to the throne room.

Mages and warriors struggled to battle dozens of demons pouring from an abnormally large rift in the center of the room.

Not thinking twice, I break into a sprint and jump to run along the fallen pillar blocking our path. Pushing off as strong as I could, I land on an unsuspecting archer, digging my blade into his clavicle. Heavy thumps behind me signal my team has followed suit. With a final twist I yank back, dislodging my weapon.

Hastily we trot up the stairs to reach the throne room, never taking our eyes off the skirmish behind. Skidding to a halt, we attempt to open the door but to no avail. Glyphs cover the thick door and Solas swiftly runs his hand over the luminous symbols, studying them intently.

"I can break it, give me a moment."

Left with no other alternative, we cover him, shooting and slashing anything that came up the stairs after us. Most of the Venatori were dead or dying, shifting the demons' attention to those still standing. Shades slide over the stone to converge on us.

Gathering as much magic as I safely can, I hurl it at the central demon. An explosion of energy sends demons nearby sailing over tile while the initial target ruptures into pieces. They quickly recover however and continue to slither for us.

"It is done. Move!"

With one last magical shove and a few arrows, we spin and run for the door, shutting it promptly behind us.

A solemn voice makes itself heard over our harsh breathing, twisting us around. "I have been expecting you. I knew you would come sooner or later, I knew that I hadn't killed you that day...My final failure."

The throne room was vacant of furniture or any other decoration, completely lifeless and barren like this world. A raging fire burns in the hearth, the only source of color, as three men are cast in shadow by its blaze. My gaze takes in the scene before me, seizing on the figures next to Alexius. Air leaves me as if I had been punched, eyes widening in stunned shock at what was in front of me before it gives way to ruthless rage.

"What did to him? What happen to mage?!"

Alexius shifts to look upon Dorian huddled by Felix, calm acceptance and face devoid of all hope as he explains. "He wished to help you, he betrayed us. But Felix loved him so, and I asked for leniency . The Elder One thought it would be a just punishment for them to share each other's fate... I only wanted to save my son, for him to be happy." He shakes his head miserably, gaze returning to the fireplace. "None of that matters now, nothing does. He will come for us. The Elder One. All that I have done, all of the death, for naught."

Leliana is materializing from the shadows, preparing to grab Felix and ultimately kill him, but I don't wait for the standoff. Fury of what had been done to Dorian, what was soon to happen to my teammates, what I would be forced to witness firsthand thanks to Alexius; fuels my magic.

Bolts overflowing with energy spear Alexius from behind, throwing his body forward. I launch another, intending to impale him to the stone. His outline blurs and zips away, dodging the fatal strike.

He wasn't getting away, I wouldn't let him.

I lunge at the body solidifying in the middle of the room, intending to bury my blade inside his chest.

Whirling currents deflect my attack and that of my team, tossing me violently ass-over-end to bounce harshly off a pillar. With a snarl Alexius slams his staff to the floor, discharging enough power to cleave through the Veil, creating a rift where he stood. Green; brilliant and blinding, fills the desolate room, chasing away the shadows with its glow.

Slumping from his wounds and blood loss, Alexius encases himself in sparkling blue, and chooses to wait for the demons to finish us. I'm slow to stand and two Shades are already emerging from the rift, slithering for the easy prey. One goes down with the flare of energy flung at its torso, the other grabs my head in its massive claws and smashes it against the stone, grinding it in as it swipes across my lower back.

I scream at the feeling of flesh rending as warm wetness instantly streaks down the side of my face and down my backside.

Magic, angry and warped tingles over my skin then the pressure pinning me is gone. Solid bodies bash Shades and Wraiths to stun them as they slash out with swords, making a defensive formation around me. Solas stands over me, shooting out at the descending demons, offering another layer of protection.

I'm dizzy and every slight movement of my torso causes burning pain, but I wasn't about to let myself die here, and that was what would happen without that rift closed. Blowing angry breathes, I claw my way up the pillar, using it as a crutch. I think about Dorian's fate for wanting to help, about my companions, and lastly about the fact I would be watching their deaths so I could live.

Utilizing my rage I thrust the anchor at the rift, driving it to obey and seal.

Fade particles and demon are raining down as I stumble to Alexius' barrier. Steps firming the closer I became, rage and adrenaline steadying me. He was mine, I would be the one to finish him.

The barrier was weakening as he bled, but still stronger than a normal enchanter's. Pivoting my hips and pushing off with my back foot, I plunge my dagger into his barrier, gathering and forcing magic into its tip. Our two energies send sparks and flares bouncing, a vortex building at the convergence. Pain rips up my right arm at the contact but I dismiss it, pulling more magic, unwilling to lose. The barrier flickers for a split second and I press the advantage, shoving with all my might and demanding strings of magic bend to my will. Blood runs freely down my arm, dripping to the floor, unnoticed.

Then in a burst it happens, a tempest of expelled power ripples through the room. Our magic cancelling the other's.

The sudden lack of resistance sends me tumbling face first into the stone floor. Alexius lays sprawled on his back, fumbling to get up. It's Leliana who steps forward and coldly slits his throat, not giving him a chance to recover.

Straining, I attempt to get up, but my body refuses to listen. Completely spent and agonizing pain making itself known. Tainted magic sluggishly glides over my wounds, partially mending them, making the pain manageable and allowing me to stagger to my feet. At least with the Breach being so large, I wasn't totally out of commission after that magical expenditure, if I had done that in the other time, I would probably have fainted -or died.

_Best not to think about that..._

Leliana uncovers the amulet and hands it to me, to which I promptly pass to Solas.

"You said a rift sent you here, give me some time to work it out and I should be able to send you back."

I eye Solas for a moment, taking in his labored breathing, lethargic healing spell, and exhaustion lined face. _"Are you sure you can? You don't look too good. Is there something I can do to help?"_

"You will need to add the Anchor's power. I can direct it for you, you only need to stay standing."

He had subtly sidestepped my question of his wellbeing. I would have pressed the issue if not for the rumble of an earthquake hitting the castle.

Roars and earsplitting shrieks echo in the room, freezing me in fear.

_Not an earthquake. That was not a fucking quake._

"We are out of time." Cassandra and Blackwall share a look before turning to us. "We'll head out first, give you as much time as we can. Leliana, you stay and be the last line of defense. Andraste help us all." Not waiting for a reply, they spin on their heels and out into the grand hall, door shutting behind with an ominous click.

"Solas, I will give you as much time as I have arrows." Leaving us alone by the fireplace as she takes her place in front of the door, arrow notched.

Tugging of the anchor and the blue-green glow of magic draws my attention back to the amulet. I stubbornly keep my gaze on Solas, and away from the haggard soulless face of Dorian nearby. There was nothing I could do about it and I would only be piling more remorse on myself.

Banging and a deafening crash from the end of the room signals the warriors have fallen and only Leliana stands between us and an army.

The anchor wrenches harder and I stumble a little at the force, but stay standing. Magic swells and a rift opens before us, threatening to suck me in. Solas drops to his knees, struggling to remain upright and its then that the sickening realization of what it would cost to send me back hits. A fist clenches my heart as I hopelessly watch, pain of a different kind knifing through me. And I wish for the hurt of before back for at least it was bearable.

"Solas..." Green starts to overtake me, the shrieks of demons and something bigger approaching ever closer ratcheting up the sense urgency.

Solas meets my gaze, a sad smile playing across his weary face. "Thank you." Blinding light envelops me as I reach for him, grabbing at air. But it was too late.

_I_ was too late.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY!

I stand in the softly lit Gull and Lantern, hand extended at nothing. It blurs and wavers as I stare vacantly at the space Solas should have been. Swallowing the sob on the verge of escaping. Furiously I blink away the tears, spinning on Alexius who gapes at me with astonishment that soon morphs to resignation.

His look of acceptance, as if it was no big thing to be defeated, is too much for me.

 _"How dare you? How dare you?!"_ I scream.

Uncaring of those around us or the pain in my body, I punch him in the hollow of his throat. Alexius bends over, clutching his neck and choking. Seizing his bent head in my hands, I jerk my knee up with all my suppressed anger.

Arms wrap around me, bodily lifting me away.

"Herald! Calm yourself! What has happened? You disappeared, we thought you dead."

_Dorian. What about Dorian?_

Shaking off Cassandra, I rapidly hurl instructions. "Harding, Alexius guard. Felix, come now."

I don't wait to see if anyone follows the orders, moving to exit the tavern and get to the Chantry as fast as I could. There was no way of knowing what I had changed by apprehending Alexius now, but I needed to see that I didn't doom Dorian by my actions. I didn't want that guilt.

Venatori who had surrendered lined the walkway outside the tavern, Inquisition scouts standing guard with the remaining inner circle ambling nearby.

 _At least one thing went like it was supposed to,_ too tense to appreciate the irony.

The disorientation of being back in this time was gnawing at my focus. Changes in the quantity of magical energy in the atmosphere making me queasy and driving me to have a migraine. My vigor and strength was flagging quickly, I wasn't sure how much longer I would be able to continue. I could feel blood seeping from partially healed injuries, throbbing intensely.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Holy shite, what happened to you?"

"Stay still, your wounds need to be tended to!"

The caress of multiple magic's soothe my hurt, mending the damage. One in particular has my heart squeezing painfully, and it almost breaks me.

_I wish I had never felt the difference._

Not pausing in my march to the Chantry, I give them what they need.

"Mage friend. Name Dorian, need help. Dorian want help Inquisition."

"You know of Dorian? How? I wasn't able to give you the message."

_Ah, good. Felix did come._

"Rift." Procrastinating on trying to explain time traveling rifts and all the crapshoot in store for the Inquisition.

Groaning I jog up the wooden Chantry stairs and throw my weight into the door to open it, breathes heaving with the effort.

Hollow thunks and grunts ring in the spacious Chantry as Dorian spins and strikes the demons converging on him.

"Good! You're finally here. Help me close this will you?" He calls while wood and stone illuminates with green from the rift behind him.

Trusting in those who followed me, I take faltering steps to the center of the chaos, anchor flaring to life. The rift was weaker than those in the future, but currently they may as well have been the same for all the good it did me. My injuries were gone but I was finding it harder to breathe, the lack of oxygen causing me to feel as though I was swaying and being dragged down.

Buzzing akin to a jack hammer wracks through my palm adding to the difficulty of sealing. Thankfully the audible snap comes and its one less thing beating at me.

"Simply fascinating. How do you do that exactly? You just wiggle your fingers around, and 'boom'." He pauses, shifting to confused worry once he gets a gander at my bloody appearance. "What has happened? I did not think Alexius would move against you so soon. Felix?"

"It was not my father, he had planned for something else. The Inquisition took action before I could halt the meeting."

"Then, if you're here...?"  

"Yes, father has already been apprehended. It's over, Dorian."

"Hmm. Well, that changes things doesn't it? I had intended to graciously offer my support and abundant knowledge to stop Alexius. Now I suppose I will just have to settle for graciously offering to help the Inquisition."

Cassandra's scathing voice interrupts, evidently suspicious, "another Tevinter. And why would you help us? Herald, you should be careful of this one."

"If you had not stopped Alexius, more of these rifts would have appeared. They distort time itself, that kind of magic is unstable and would unravel the world. The Breach allows for such spells to be possible. Alexius is gone, but what of who he was working with? They don't seem to care about consequences of such magic. This affects everyone, I can't just sit idly twiddling my thumbs and hope for the best."

"It fine, Dorian. Help Inquisition. Tevinter or no, you want help."

_Thank god, nothing major happened. I didn't just sentence Dorian to some fucked up fate._

"Now a Tevinter mage joins us?" Shaking her head in disbelief. "Distort time? Is that what happened to you? I had assumed you were pulled into the Fade again." Brows furrowing, she rubs her forehead as if to clear her mind, "and the rebel mages, what are we to do with them? It's doubtful they will be welcome wherever they go, and we cannot let them off so easily. We need them for the Breach, the best option would be to conscript them to the cause."

My vision is darkening around the edges, making it hard to focus on the faces around me. Regardless, I wouldn't let the Inquisition go down that path if I could help it.

"No. Mages team, partner. Inquisition help mages or no all." Voice strained and coming out as a wheeze. Fear and confusion claw through me as I hunch over, clutching my chest.

"Herald? Herald, are you all right? What's wrong?"

No. No, I was not all right.

The center of my chest hurt painfully, feeling like it was being crushed, the shallow breathes I had been taking no longer working to manage the hurt and lightheadedness.

Something was very, very wrong.

Everything around me focuses to a pinprick of color, the only source of light in a sea of black. It felt as though I was being sucked in, drifting slowly down. Cries and calls of alarm filter through a hazy fog, then nothingness as the dark devours the light.

~

The few instances of limited consciousness in the following days had brought nothing but hushed whispers and vague images. It was on the first night of returning to Haven that I awoke fully, worn out and weak, but awake.

"So you awaken, thought you might kick the bucket there for a while. You're lucky the apostate and First Enchanter were nearby. Never would have made it back here otherwise."

"....wh-what...hap-happen..."

The Apothecary halts in his work and moves to peer down at me.

"Physically you're fine. Everything else...well... You've been driving your body to its limits and have frequently hit severe mana imbalance within a short span of time, not to mention repeated physical trauma. Those things take a heavy toll. The strain has been piling without any release and so, here you are."

Silently I stare up at him, processing this bit of information.

"Rest. Things can wait and you will be as good as new. You may feel a little groggy, that's normal. I had to give you something to keep your mind firmly here. In the state you were in, it would have been easy for a demon to worm their way in." He eyes me for another moment then gently gives me a reassuring pat before leaving my home.

I curl into a tightly held ball when the door clicks shut. The fear I had been holding at bay consuming me. Tears fill my eyes and I do nothing to stop them, the choked cries quickly turning to great quaking sobs.

I was lost, the sensation of defeat and hopelessness overwhelming.

Things had been so close to ending disastrously, I had almost died unintentionally.

I had tried to change something so miniscule, and where the overall outcome was the expected one, the cost to getting there had been high. It felt as though I was being cornered, unable to find a way out, unable to find a solution. As though anything I tried would be for naught and I would be back to where I started.

If such a slight alteration had such consequences, what would a total overhaul do?

Would I be able to do it? Could I? Would it even help? Or would I be adrift in a worse sequence of events incapable of predicting what would come?

I didn't have it in me to take that leap. I was not strong enough for that, I was not brave. I could only hide behind false bravado and wait for someone to save me. I just wanted to go home, I didn't want to be a 'hero', I didn't want to save a world.

So I weep, weep until there is nothing left and only numbness remains.

~

The advisors and Cassandra had come to me, conducting a bedside meeting to find out what had happened when I went through the rift. Dorian had thankfully already filled in that those rifts at Redcliffe altered time so describing time travel wasn't a problem. It was my attempt to explain Celene's assassination and an imminent demon army recruitment that was difficult. Eventually after many 'no's and terrible Pictionary, they had the condensed version of potential shit hitting the fan.

After my breakdown the night before, and feeling greatly recharged, I had decided that I would continue to stick to the timeline. For the sake of survival, for reaching Skyhold, for making it _home -_ I would be the good little Herald, and I would follow those events lain before me. Falling apart and crying wasn't going to do me any good. So, better to let it out, take a deep breath, then stuff it all down again. If nothing changed after Skyhold, then I could revisit my pity party and make a new plan.

Until then, false bravado ho!

I was pleasantly surprised hearing that the mages in fact had been given partnership, Cassandra having honored my wish. So far there had been minimal issues with their assimilation other than the usual, 'you mage, arghhh!' and 'screw you templar', type shenanigans.

Mages were still filing in from Redcliffe, giving me time to rest longer until they were all accounted for. No one wanted to take any chances, they wanted the Breach properly sealed this time.

Not that I was complaining about the wait, it seemed all I wanted to do was sleep. The short bout around the room and devising a plan for the Breach had me crawling into bed and dead to the world before anyone even had time to exit the room.

My companions and the Apothecary would come and go sometimes while I slept, leaving little things and telling me to feel better.

The night prior to heading to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, I was finally in a state not similar to a walking corpse. And I found myself sitting on the steps in front of Solas' hut, hoping to talk to him but also hoping I would miss him instead.

I didn't know how long I waited, lost to my thoughts before I heard the crunch of snow underfoot. Glancing up, I see Solas gracefully striding for me, my internal voice sighing dreamily as I ogle his finely sculpted thighs.

Giving myself a hard inner shake and batting the thought away, I idly muse, _He must have purposely hardened his steps so I would notice_.

"Rest well? These past weeks must have been difficult for you."

He takes a seat nearby, watching me intently.

"Yes. Thank you for help."

He waves away my gratitude, "Your thanks is not warranted, there was little I could do." There's silence for a few moments before his obvious curiosity gets the better of him. "You experienced time travel. Are you certain it was not an illusion, a trick perhaps?"

Nope, it had all been horrifyingly real. "No, real."

"That is...fascinating. What an amazing gift. The Inquisition has gained valuable information with your journey. It is vital they use it to succeed to avoid the future you witnessed."

Not for the first time since coming here, I wonder if I should reveal more, let him know I knew that he could understand me. The question was, what would it accomplish? We could converse easier, have deeper discussions, I could learn about the veil, but that would lead to being more invested then I was already. I didn't want to be, I didn't want there to be something to hold me here, make me more confused then I already was.

No, as long as there was an illusion of a language barrier, then nothing could deepen.

"This Elder One, you have foiled his plans twice now. A being aspiring to Godhood will not take this perceived offense lightly. He will need to act against you, or risk appearing weak. You should ready yourself."

" _Meh._ There always big bad." Shrugging since there wasn't much I could do about that.

Solas raises a brow at my dismissal. "A powerful creature wishes to crush you and you are not worried?"

_Well if you hadn't given him the orb and made it so he would be sicced on me..._

"No. I deal with Elder One or go squish."

"A simplistic view."

"Maybe. But true."

He inclines his head, acknowledging the point. Another pause and Solas fixes his gaze to the night sky, tone holding an air of nonchalant.

"Herald of Andraste, the blessed hero sent to save us all. A lofty title. You desired to ally with the rebel mages and so it is done. The people listen to you, follow you. I'm curious what you will do with that power."

His attempt to subtly prod me. Too bad for him I had seen him in action and knew who he was.

"Nothing. No want. Will no lead anyone."

"Those with authority seldom relinquish it, yet you would do so. That is rare indeed. Sadly you may not have a choice in the matter."

I snort at that. "Barely speak Common. Silly let lead."

"Perhaps. Though the allure of a figurehead capable of drawing believers and loyalty would be great. Some may not care about the individual so long as their needs are met."

Chuckling at the thought of the advisors attempting to make me do what they want, "Inquisition want me lead as figure, see how well goes."

His expression is indiscernible as he studies my face, possibly endeavoring to solve the riddle I represent or testing my sincerity no doubt.

I stare back, secretly enjoying the exchange and wondering what else he would try to pry from me.

"Lady Herald. It is good to see you up and about. However we depart at first light, it would be best if you rest and not push yourself."

Cullen marches down the path leading from the Chantry, halting feet from us.

I might have been tired but his tone as he looks us over has me balking.

"Commander." Solas says by way of greeting. His humble hobo apostate mask firmly in place. "You are right of course. Forgive me for delaying your rest, _Herald_."

"Come, I shall walk with you."

Effectively dismissed I stand to join Cullen, incredibly irked and wanting to kick the both of them.

"Goodnight, Solas." Letting the irritation show.

Even more vexing is Cullen's silence as he walks me to my home, only broken when he wishes me pleasant dreams before he departs.

_I swear, men make me want to flip a table....._


	12. Chapter 12

The Breach looms over me, as ominous and ravenous as I remember. My eyes water from the blinding brilliance of the Breach as I march through the glow, left arm extended to reach it.

Instantly my steps falter when the vicious tug of the anchor connects with the Breach. I clench my jaw, firming myself up to stay 'here' and not sucked into the Breach. Pulling, mending, and stuffing magic into the gaping maw.

"Get ready!"

"Focus past the Herald! Let her will draw from you!"

Like lightning, currents of magic penetrate the anchor, significantly eliminating the drag of the Breach. My hand feels as though it's virtually bursting with energy that's bouncing and jostling eagerly for release.

I direct the excess magic at the Breach, offering it an outlet.

Blazing white spreads over my vision, leaving me temporarily sightless as a deafening torrent of magic ripples out, flinging anyone in the vicinity.  

It's eerily quiet as I pick myself up, blinking rapidly to clear the stars from my eyes. Rocks clattering to the ground and the crackling of a still agitated anchor are the only sound for long moments before a single cheer of victory rings out.

Others soon take up the jubilant whoop, triumph and relief practically palatable. The mood is infectious and I can't help but grin, feeling a small sense of pride at accomplishing something without incident.

~

Raucous laughter and merriment fills Haven, goodwill and camaraderie flowing as plentiful as the ale between mages and templars alike.

 _Funny that it had only taken wanton destruction to get them to take the stick out of their butts and see each other as people_.

A lute distantly plays, it's jolly jig muffled as I stare out at the night, waiting.

Daggers sharpened and holstered, pockets lined with lyrium vials, and abandoned mineshaft located; I was as prepared as I was going to be.

I watch the uninhibited elation below me with anxiety, wondering how on Earth I was going to pull this off. It had crossed my mind to hint of an attack but that would raise questions, plus I honestly did not care what would happen to the people here. I didn't know them or have any kind of emotional attachment to them.

The only individuals who I cared about were nearby, a fact I had made certain of. Real or not, I would feel remorse if something happened to them.

I believed Leliana, being a shrewd woman, would place lookouts around Haven in case someone attacked while our guard was down. Though it had nagged at me that maybe I was putting too much faith in that. It was entirely possible that the only reason as many people made it out of Haven was that the Herald had taken Solas' advice and mentioned something to the advisors.

A gusty sigh passes my lips.

_All well. Not much I can do about it now._

Footfalls crunch behind me, "Solas confirms the Heavens are scarred but calm. The Breach is sealed. There are reports of lingering rifts and there are still many unanswered questions, but it is still a victory. The Inquisition will need a new purpose, a reason to continue. However, the worries of tomorrow can wait, now is a time to celebrate. You should go down and join them. It is as much your success as it is ours. None of this could have been accomplished without you. Go, enjoy."

I smile weakly at Cassandra standing next to me.

"It fine. Like it here. Inquisition and comrades deserve win, no me. Would be dead if you no here."

She snorts as she kindly smiles at me, "You don't give--"

Bells loudly toll beyond the gates, destroying the air of revelry. Anarchy takes hold as men and women scatter to figure out what's happening and arm themselves.

Veteran soldiers and Cullen's shouts carry over the turmoil, bringing a semblance of order.

"TO ARMS!"

"FORCES APPROACHING! GET TO YOUR POSTS!"

"Wha-?" Cassandra scans over the mountains and spots the torches of the incoming army. "No...this can't be..." Horror fills her eyes before she turns to me. "Quickly, we must get to the gates!"

Together we rush in a hurried jog to the gates, dodging passed scrambling troops. Cullen already has the situation in hand when we arrive.

"Cullen! What is going on?"

"Reports have only come in from one tower. The others have gone dark. It's a massive force, with more coming over the mountain."

"I don't understand, who would attack us now?"

"We're not sure. They fly no banners."

The gates rattle and shake as something hard bangs against it, drawing everyone's attention.

Knowing what is behind it, I motion for it to be opened.

Templar corpses lay scattered over the ground. Red staining the once pure snow, spreading out like a macabre web. Cole stands alone, ringed by death.

"I'm Cole. I came to warn you. To help. But you know that. People are coming to hurt you. But you know that too. The templars mean to kill you."

"Templars?!" Cullen strides furiously to Cole, making him take a step back. "So this is the Order's response is it? For allying with the mages? They would attack us blindly?"

"The Red Templars went to the Elder One." Cole looks into my eyes, seeing _me_. " _You_ know him. He knows you now. You took the mages. His mages. He is very angry."

Taking control of the situation, Cullen turns to Cassandra and I. "Haven is not a fortress. We must not allow for them to get a foothold. Everyone is needed to manage this fight." Drawing his sword, he marches before the troops who have gathered behind us, watching. Weapon raised high, he shouts, "Give them everything you've got! No quarter! Stand with the Inquisition! With the Herald!"

War cries answer his speech, rallying anyone within earshot and giving a boost in morale.      

It does nothing for me, I knew it was not going to be that easy.

"Get to the southern trebuchet, it will be hit the hardest. We'll handle things here."

Cassandra and Cole stay with me as we trot to the southernmost trebuchet and apprehensively wait for the first wave to appear. I briefly wonder where the others are but push it away when splotches of black and red break from the tree line.

A moment of bated breath, then suddenly its clashing chaos.

Sickening dampening fields cover the area, dispersing the threads of magic.

Though, those were only the easily accessible ones, the magic that naturally made it through the Veil. No, the true test was being able to pull from the Fade, a potentially limitless power source if you had an affinity for it and could then accomplish it.

'Reaching' beyond, I will energy to manifest. It's sluggish in responding and doubly draining thanks to the templars, but it comes.

I drop on all fours when red lyrium crystals zoom straight for me, pushing off as they whoosh over, aiming at the Horror bearing down on me. Claws slice out, intending to gut. Parrying the arm with magic to throw it back, I heel kick with the remaining energy, staggering it for precious seconds. I press in, stabbing down into its exposed neck, and twist as I yank back. He shakes violently but does not go down. Instead, liquid lyrium expels out from the red crystals protruding from him. Still very close and no way to avoid, it splashes with a burning intensity.

I fling myself to the side and into the snow, rolling, attempting to cool the burn. Rolling into a crouch, I square up again, somewhat soothed. An animalistic roar comes from him as he charges again, the wound in his neck healed to the point it merely seeped.

Another side swipe. I step into it, ducking down and cutting his torso as I dance to his flank, slashing out again. Blood floods down his back and side but it doesn't faze him, the injuries already quickly mending before my eyes. Haphazardly I gather magic, not much but enough to daze him when I toss it into his face when he turns to me. It makes the Horror bend forward a little and I jump up, sinking both blades into his clavicles. He screeches and stumbles backwards with me still holding on. I dig the daggers deeper, driving them to the hilt as he viciously grabs me by the ribs and tries to throw me off.

Feeling as though in slow motion, he finally falls to the ground, taking me with him. I scramble off him, placing a foot on his chest for leverage and jerking as hard as I can to dislodge my weapons.

It's as though a dam has broken and a flood of templars descends from the tree line, swarming our group.

I parry the first sword, kicking the templar in the chest to push him away. Pivoting, I hurl energy into a templar running down the hill at me, throwing him off balance and to the ground.

Another Horror shrieks, coming in for what appears would be a painful ending bear hug. I step to the side enough for him to brush past, kicking him in the back to send face first into the snow.

There's too many for the troops with me, Cassandra, and Cole. Inquisition soldiers are dropping all around as we become overrun.

Touching the lyrium vials in my pockets to reassure myself, I frantically discharge magic at the enemy. The hasty and sloppy conjuring brings mana burn quicker than normal as torrents of energy zing, zip, and cleave the air around us.

I'm soon down on a knee, gasping for breath, fighting to keep from vomiting or fainting.

For all the good it did. There was only the briefest of lulls before more templars dash forward.

I fumble inside my pocket, grasping for a vial to down.

There's a harsh cough as bolts and the whoosh of arrows sail dangerously close to me as they rocket past to find their targets. Goosebumps raise as the tingle of magic whizzes above me to burn, electrocute, and freeze incoming templars.

Blackwall deflects a blow meant for me, giving me the time I needed to gulp down the tonic.

With the nine of us together, the tide turned in our favor as we held the templar forces at bay.

The sound we had been waiting for finally grinds and creaks thunderously in the distance, a subsequent echo behind us signals our trebuchet has also fired. A rolling boom from the mountain draws attention to the enemy torches being devoured by the sweeping landslide.

Clouds of billowing snow cover the side of the mountain and triumphant cheers ring out at the sight.

I look up at the sky, searching for what would spell the end of hope.

A deafening shrill roar resounds in the darkness, then a rumbling whoosh as red pierces the night. Exploding the trebuchets into thousands of wooden splinters.

Uncurling from my protective ball, I scan over my teammates. They were picking themselves up from the snow, seeming frazzled but unhurt.

"A-a dragon? Why is there a dragon here?" Cassandra shakes her head disbelievingly. " The other trebuchets were hit too, we must check on the others. Come, back to the gates!"

We jog as fast as we can up the dirt road, the gates coming into view.

"HERALD! Wait! Come help me with this!"

_Nah...no way...people wouldn't actually be dumb enough to-_

"There's supplies inside, I must get them. Only the essentials though!"

_Oh, for fuck's sake!_

Bee lining to the smithy's door, I enhance kick the debris blocking the door. Wood flying everywhere.

"Go, go, go!" I wave at my company as I start off again, leaving the man to fend for himself. Jumping over bodies and destroyed machinery to get to the gate.

"PULL BACK! EVERYONE PULL BACK! GET TO THE CHANTRY!" Cullen's steadfast calm shout carry's over the desolation.

They wait until our group runs through before they bar the gate behind us.

The sight of templars climbing over the broken sections of wall has us double timing to get to the Chantry.

Womanly screams ring from the direction of the tavern.

"Did you hear that?"

"We must help."

"The people of Haven will not survive on their own."

_Son of a bitch._

Changing direction to take the out-of-the-way path, I signal for Cassandra and Blackwall to investigate the Tavern while I kept running for the Apothecary hut. If I had to be the savior of the Universe, then I would get it done quickly.

Jars of flammable tonics sit in wagons set ablaze and ready to explode in fiery death. The Apothecary and his apprentice both lay on the ground, presumably injured and in direct line of danger.

_Wow, really?_

Uncaring of possible wounds, I grab him by his ankles and start to drag him for all I was worth. Dorian rushes to help while Solas and Varric take the apprentice.

Sera calls over Cassandra and Blackwall to our location and they each take a patient, bodily throwing them over a shoulder.

The Chantry doors are so tauntingly near when Threnn's angry yell calls attention to another person in need of saving.

The warriors continue on while me and the rest sidetrack to the other side of the Chantry.

"Holy balls!" Skidding to a halt at the sight of the huge templar knight.

Threnn bobs and weaves as she ineffectively swipes at him with her sword. Magic and wooden projectiles soaring past me nudge me out of my surprise and into moving again.

Picking up speed, I launch into a side kick to give her breathing room. He barely staggers back at the enhanced leap kick, but at least his focus had shifted.

_"Ho boy...you are a big one...What do they feed you?"_

He was unarmed, but I had a feeling that getting hit with those mitts would feel like being hit with a sledgehammer.

I duck and side step as hastily as I can to keep out of his grasping hands, hands that were easily the size of my head. Unfortunately he was playing with me, allowing me to barely escape. The red lyrium improved not only their regeneration and powers, but their speed as well. He may have been big, but he was quick.

Dancing away to flank him, he pivots blindingly fast and grabs me by the hips and front of my tunic.

" _AW FUCK!_ SHOOT! SHOOT!"

Lifting me high over his head, his body tenses for a moment before hurling me with all his strength against the side of the Chantry.

I twist my body to take the brunt of the impact with my shoulder and hip. It doesn't do much to dissipate the force, but at least I didn't die from the collision.

I lurch to my feet, leaning heavily against the wall, cradling my elbow to alleviate some of the pain knifing through my shoulder blade. I was pretty sure it was broken, a dislocation would have been less painful, and this had me on the verge of tears.

The Knight's body was riddled with arrows, bolts, and magic scorch marks when he finally falls to his knees and keels over .

Dorian's radiant and dancing magic is the first to run over my skin before the others join in to mend the damage.

"Are you all right? You took quite the hit."

"Good, Dorian. Thank you."

A shrill roar has everyone moving again, anyone still out there was a lost cause at this point.

~

"-people can escape. Andraste must have shown me so I could tell you..."

Looking at Roderick, I was uncertain of what I felt.

On one hand, I did feel pity that he was dying and that he was going to spend the little time he had left to lead the people to safety. However, that did not change the fact that he had been a giant dick to everyone.

"People will have time need. Go. Will handle it."

"When that mountain falls..." Cullen gazes at me with sadness, unable to voice that logically it would be suicide.

"We will come with you. You will need backup if this is to work."

"We stand with you, Herald."

"No. No one come. Go with people. Soldiers enough." I eye my companions sternly. No way was I taking the chance that they died doing this. I was still unclear how they had helped the Herald originally and then, poof! gone. They were a loyal and valiant lot, it was doubtful they just left the Herald to finish everything as they ran away.

No, better to not take the chance at all. Some of the lyrium had made it even after my experience of being smashed into a wall like a bug. There was enough left to let me reach mana burn a few times.

"You want us to leave it all to you? I could not look at myself if I let you go alone."

"Don't ask us to do this, Herald."

"We have stood together through so much. You would have us leave you now?"

"Do you mean to die?"

I appreciated that they would stand with me. I give them I cocky grin in reassurance, "No. Will no die. Trust me. Go."

It does not sit well with them. I can see they want to argue, but there was no time. They reluctantly filter farther inside the Chantry, leaving me a few at a time.

Ten soldiers run up and file behind Cullen, standing at attention.

"These men will load the remaining trebuchet and help you hold position. Keep them covered. We will signal once we make it to the tree line." He hesitates, meeting my eyes. "Maker watch over you."

I give Cullen a farewell nod then turn with the troops to head to the moment of truth.

Handfuls of men still linger, fighting here and there as we hurry down the path. Jumping over bodies of Inquisition and templar alike. Knights and swordsmen prowl the road as we make it down the stairs. No longer willing to take any chances, I let myself unleash potent magic, ignoring the potential consequences.

The swordsman goes down with the burst of energy to his head, burning through his helmet and melting it to his face. A heavily charged kick to the Knight's stomach has him skidding backwards, bent over. I bury my dagger into his exposed neck and send magic down the blade. His shrieks die quickly when the energy bursts, shredding his throat and most of the upper cavity of his chest.

I don't wait for his body to fall, already sprinting for the trebuchet, soldiers following close behind. Templars wander the area around the trebuchet, searching for Haven survivors. Without breaking pace, I look to the man nearest,

"Aim trebuchet. No stop. No matter happen."

"Y-Ye-Yes, Herald." Fear evident in his eyes.

_All right. Nut up or shut up time...LETS DO THIS!_

"HEY, UGLY! _TIME TO GET POWNED!_ " Shouting to get their attention.

They spin at my challenge, charging us in a group as I had hoped.

Gathering everything I could, I send rippling currents straight for them. Those in the center are hit full on, dying instantly. The others are either thrown or shredded apart, losing limbs but still alive. As they scramble to their feet, I descend on them, cutting out with magic and blades.

My troops have made it unhindered to the trebuchet and the area was clear of templars.

At least it was for a moment. More run from the road to reach us, having heard the agonized screams. Quickly I gulp down lyrium, preparing for another round. I, along with three soldiers position ourselves as the first line of defense, leaving the others to protect, load, and aim the trebuchet.

Crystal lyrium shoots for us, ducking the first set and jumping over the second, I discharge a maelstrom of magic at the incoming templars. Some remain and rush forward, others climb over the dead and debris to get to us. Arrows wetly thunk into the man to my right. He staggers and sways but stays upright, parrying a blade. I launch powerful spears of energy at the archers, pivoting as a claw swipes for my hip. I drive magic into the Horror's chest as I spin away, and kick another in the knee that got too close.

Sending a brutal vortex into the group converging on me, I backpedal to give myself space and chug another vial.

A guttural bellow precedes a colossal crystallized templar captain as he clamors over the log wall, adding to the cluster fuck already happening.

The soldiers with me were already down except for the man aiming and two others. I center myself in front of them and let the templars get closer as I build up everything for a massive kamikaze move. A shield bashes me from the side, flinging me to the ground. Still I keep going, even when my ankle is grabbed and I'm left dangling in the air.

 _"Wrong move, bitch."_ I sneer at the Templar Captain holding me up.

Mana burn is instantaneous when I expel the magic. A burst of violently whirling currents rippling out, engulfing everything nearby in an expanding sphere; shredding, ripping, and tearing all to pieces.

I land on my back with an _oomph_ as the wind is knocked out of me. My limbs feel stiff and listless as I blindly grope for a vial, numb and too drained to roll to my side.

It feels like it takes an eternity until I grasp the last one and tug it out of my pocket.

The effects are sluggish to take hold, perhaps from the repeated consumption or perhaps from pushing my magic too far. Either way, I slowly flop over, function returning in small increments.

The area is devoid of life, templar and Inquisition alike. Chunks of corpses and lyrium lay scattered in a sea of blood. A body leans against the trebuchet crank, two others lay nearby as if they had tried to shield him.

_I wasn't quick enough then._

They had been cut down before I had finished my attack, but not before aiming the trebuchet. He had done it, the soldier had kept his word.

Blood covers me from head to toe and I'm uncertain how much is mine. I had felt my body being slashed by the backlash as I collected the magic. I crawl to my hands and knees, forcing my body to cooperate as I raise up on trembling legs. I needed to fire the trebuchet, there was no telling how long before more templars came.

Earsplitting shrill roars echo in the night, then suddenly the ground shakes as something huge crashes to the earth behind me. It has me spinning awkwardly to square off instead of leaving my back open.

The dragon roars again as it skids to a halt in front of me, drool and spittle flying.

"Eww... _Come on now! Keep it to yourself!_ " Brushing saliva off me.

I was tremendously afraid. The dragon was so big and looked like a goddamn cadaver come to life. If it opened its mouth, I would easily fit in it standing up. The teeth were longer and thicker than my arms, there was no way I would survive against this thing.

"Enough!"

A wave of immense power slides over the area, stopping the dragon and bring it to heel, while putting me on my knees from the impact.

I scramble to my feet and twist around to meet Corypheus.

"Pretender. You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more."

_"Woof...Damn you ugly. What happened to you? Are you made of plastic and someone put you in the microwave? Shit....harsh..."_

"You dare to play games with me, insect? Know me worthless fool. Know what you pretended to be. The Exalted Elder One. Corypheus. You will kneel before your God."

"Yeah....Fuck you. Suck my lady balls."

_Love you so much right now Sera!_

"You resist. You will always resist....It matters not. I am here for the Anchor." The orb that was previously dark, now sizzles and sparks to red glowing life. "The process for its removal begins now."

Corypheus extends his arm at me, the menacing red of the orb now mirrored in his palm.

The anchor flares and crackles in response, buzzing furiously and sending jolts of pain into my hand.

"It is your fault, Herald. You interrupted a ritual years in the planning. Stole its purpose." The intensity of the orb brightens, an answering tug and painful pull of the anchor making me clutch my arm.

"I do not know how you survived. But what-"

"Awesome... Super awesome...Suck it..." Through gritted teeth.

An angry snarl erupts from Corypheus. Stomping to my prone form, he lifts me as though I weight nothing, a pained yelp escapes me as my wrist and shoulder takes all my weight.

It ends abruptly when he tosses me like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder and into the trebuchet.

"It is permanent. You have spoiled it with your ignorant fumbling. So be it, I will find another way. And you, you will die here. I will not suffer even an unknowing rival."

Back and body incredibly sore, I inch my way to a standing position, leaning on the wood as I catch my breath. A blaze of orange shoots into the sky behind Corypheus, a sight I would have missed if I wasn't looking at him.

From the corner of my eye I spot the firing lever, and crossing my inner fingers that I didn't fuck up, I grin at Corypheus.

_"Hope you like snow."_

Heart beating frantically and nerves riding me hard, I kick out, shoving magic along for good measure.

The grinding and creaking of winches and gears sends me into an all out fear induced sprint. The rolling rumble of an avalanche chasing me to the mineshaft spurs me to move faster. With a curse, I leap into the dark hole, wondering too late how deep this thing was.


	13. Chapter 13

There's a moment of free-fall as I'm devoured by darkness --stomach feeling weightless and that unique sense of sinking in the pit of your gut right before I land with a jarring thud. The layer of snow does little to cushion the fall and I cry out in pain.

Cries that were quickly silenced when snow and debris comes crashing down on top.

Mindless terror seizes me as I choke on snow, become unable to breathe. Intense pressure bears down, suffocating and pinning, caging me to immobility. Wildly I claw and scratch at the snow, trying to dig my way to open air. The magic I had begun to rely on became mad and unstable, became discharged carelessly -shoving and thrusting snow from my body.

My hand clutches at empty space and frantically I tunnel to wiggle my way out until at last coughs and strangled sobs echoing in the pitch black darkness were my reward.

Not being able to see even a sliver of light ratchets up my fear, making it even harder to breathe. There's a sputtering of green, then, as if I light flicked, a brilliant sustained flare illuminates the cavern, and in that moment I could do nothing but grasp the wrist of my left and gratefully sob.

Give me pain, give me hurt --give me an opponent, and I will pigheadedly power through it. But being buried alive was something that scared me more than anything. There was nothing you could do, no way to fight.    

Long minutes pass before my breathing calms and the tears die. I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand as I take in my surroundings. Ice and snow cover every inch of surface in the cavern while the only means of exiting was a stone tunnel surprisingly still intact. Adrenaline had already come and gone, leaving me incredibly exhausted and in extreme pain. Moisture from the blood and snow intensified the cold, issuing needle-like jabs to stab relentlessly over my skin. My right knee and femur throbbed and hurt when I moved, hinting that the fall may have fractured something.

_Fuck...How am I supposed to get out of here?_

I try to stand, putting a little weight on my leg. It buckles and I crash down with a scream of pain, grinding my forehead into the ice and clutching my thigh in a mad hope to focus on anything else.

I lay there, riding out the waves of agony.

_COME ON! You have to do this...You have to do this. If I don't get up I die here. I'm so close. You can do this. I. Can. Do. This. Come on!_

Panting heavily and blowing air forcefully passed my lips, I tighten my jaw and lift my head from the ground. Gingerly I get to my feet once again, leaning to the left to put as much weight as I could on that leg. I try hopping to the tunnel, but after a few feet, the jarring hurts so much that I abandoned the idea. Instead I make small limps to the tunnel and use the wall as a crutch.

It's a snail's pace as I make my way through the passage, frequently stopping when the pain or fatigue was too much.

A faint light finally breaks the monotonous black, beckoning me forward.

The large icy chamber before me has passageways splitting off in opposite directions but the one I was interested in was bright from the outside world. Too bad there were Despair and Wraith demons blocking it.

The anchor had absorbed quite a bit of energy from the mages and it still retained much of it. I had felt the difference after sealing the Breach. Maybe I was supposed to use it now to open rifts of doom but I had no idea how to do it.

They haven't noticed my presence yet but I know that would change soon.

Extending my left hand, I imagine warping the air, plucking a tiny thread out of a blanket, anything that remotely seemed to make sense.

Absolutely nothing.

I just stand there with my arm out, looking like I'm imploring some demons.

A Wraith starts to turn, and I knew time was up. My body was already messed up and it wasn't like any more was going to make a difference at this point, so I throw everything I had at the demons.

They explode in a shower of Fade demon bits, dissolving completely before they even hit the ice.

I bend over, vomiting all the lyrium I had ingested. It doesn't stop, even when there was nothing left and dry heaves wrack my body.

Mana burn, I had reached mana burn already.

Sniffling, I spit and wipe my eyes. Ever so carefully I hobble to the mine entrance and stare in defeat at the sight before me.

Strong, piercingly cold winds buffet my body as I look out at blindingly pure white. Thick flurries dance a fast tempo, obscuring visibility to only a few feet.

There was no way to determine direction in this blizzard, no way to know where to head. If I chose wrong, I would die. I could wait out the storm, but how long would that be? If I stayed still too long I would succumb to exhaustion and I would die.

Tugging draws my attention from the dejected thoughts. I glance down at the anchor in bewilderment.

_Is there a rift nearby or something?_

Another yank, more insistent this time.

_No...it feels weird. Not a rift....maybe?_

I vainly stare out into the storm, seeing nothing but white. Holding up my hand, I try to determine why it feels so off.

My eyes widen in shock when it clicks. It was attempting to point me in the right direction, at least that was what my lizard brain was praying was the case.

Taking a leap of faith and honestly having no other options, I limp into the snowy void.

~

A weak fizzle of red spirals into the air above me and fades all too quickly.

My arm falls heavily to my side. I had sent up magic sporadically in the hopes of leading someone to me or at least to let them know I was alive but it had been for naught. I had nothing left.

It must have been hours of lumbering through the snow, my body numb and no longer hurting. Frost and ice covered me from the blood and melted snow, breaking with each wooden step. Still I keep trudging on laden limbs, unseeing.

My foot falters and I collapse face first into the snow. I make no attempt to get up and instead close my eyes.

I was tired, so very tired. I just wanted to rest for a moment. Just a moment...

The mournful howl of a wolf penetrates the weary fog. It was not the first I had heard it during my trek through the pass, each time seeming to be closer and closer. It brings me comfort now, imagining that it was Solas, or maybe that was just my mind trying to give me peace as I died.

_I wonder if he would care about my death. Ahhh...guess it doesn't matter now..._

I was so far gone, I never even heard the sounds of approach. Nor the feel of hands lifting my broken body.

~

The sense that I was supposed to be doing something, that I was forgetting something very important nudges my brain. It was the pissed arguing that bust through the black nothingness, bringing me to bleary wakefulness.

"-ave me tell them?! This isn't what we asked them to do!"

"We cannot simply ignore this! We must find a way!"

Groggily I lift my head to stare over at the advisors heatedly quarreling on what they should do.

 _Holy shit...I'm alive...Fuck yeah!..._ My inner self giving a tired fist pump.

I drop my head back down, intending to let the darkness take me again. A voice nearby kills that intention though.

"You barely lived, it was by the efforts of many mages and that odd young boy that kept you here. You must have someone watching over you." Mother Giselle eyes me shrewdly, the ruckus behind us growing harsher."They have been like this for hours. Passionate words will not help us at this point. Our leaders struggle because of what we survivors have witnessed. We saw you stand and fall. Now, here you are, _returned_."

_Ugh...please no...I think I know where you're going with this..._

"Your actions appear miraculous and the trials we face seem ordained. It is a hard thing to accept, no? That 'we' must endure. That 'we' must-"

_...And you did._

I struggle to sit up, setting my legs over the edge of the cot.

"Mother Giselle. No Maker, no Andraste help Haven, save people. People save people, no gods. People make own fate."

I move to stand, intending to find somewhere else to sleep or find something constructive to do instead of listening to her spiritual fanaticism. Giselle's clear lyrical voice sits me right back down.

"~Shadows fall..."

"Oh, no. Giselle, it fine. No need sing-"

"~and hope has fled..."

_Goddamn it._

The advisors tentatively join the inspirational hymn, soldiers and commoners following close behind until not a soul hasn't taken up the chant.

 _"Great, now we're all singing like a bunch of jackasses..."_ Sighing heavily. Though if I was honest, it did kinda have a cool eerie vibe when everyone sang at once.

Men and women slowly stride to the canopy, never halting in their song as they look upon me.

_Wait, nah. Come on..._

Some kneel, others bow or salute me reverently. Eyes filled with wonder and awe.  

_Now the creep factor is all the way up._

The end does not come soon enough and I breathe a relieved sigh when it does and people start to drift away. Solas' clipped tone startles me when he appears seemingly out of nowhere.

"A word?" Never pausing to check if I agreed.

On death's door or not, I hastily scramble to follow the disappearing figure, not wanting to chance another awkward religious worshiping or messiah speech.

He leads me through the camp, weaving past fires and tents. The sounds of renewed hope and faith drifting further and further away as he presses on. A lone iron torch protrudes from the snow ahead. An odd placement for a light source to be sure, unless it was meant as a trail marker.

I watch as Solas saunters to the torch, the air of confidence he so desperately tries to hide shinning through.

Luminous blue flares to life with a simple wave of his hand, casting him partially in shadow. The dance of playful light on the angles of his face breathtakingly beautiful to behold.

"The humans have not raised one of our people so high for ages beyond counting. Her faith is hard-won lethallan, worthy..."

His words bring me crashing back from my wandering. Mind becoming more alert and chasing away the dreamy fog.

_Our people? Lethallan?_

So, he saw me as a regular elf. Even with all of my blaring oddities. I suppose he would have no reason to question otherwise, or that I was not a person of Thedas. Keeping my expression carefully neutral, I study him with renewed interest, listening to his words.

"-when they learn that the orb is of our people."

Chuckling softly, "Elves. Always elves. Or mages. Irony that it both." I can't help but joke. Noticing too late that I had made a slip in my tired state.

Solas didn't seem to see the humor in it, his lips pressing tightly together in displeasure. If he caught it, it didn't show.

"That is the unfortunate perception, yes. Ignorance breeds intolerance and violence. To continue to be seen as valuable allies, we must be above such suspicion. Their faith in you needs room to grow. There is a place that would provide such an opportunity. A fortress to the North, one that but waits for a force to hold it. Skyhold."

If I hadn't spent weeks observing the man and didn't have the insight I did, I wouldn't have detected it. His delicate directing, his aloofness, or his perception of me. Oh, he thought I was an intriguing and fascinating puzzle. And possibly even enjoyed my company, but I was still just a little gremlin walking around providing stimulating brain tickles.

And it very much made me want to throw snow at his stupid sexy bald head.

"Convenient." I dryly comment. "Name Skyhold because hold up Veil? Or just where it cast?"

I realize it the second it leaves my mouth.

His gaze snaps to mine at my query, boring into me. My face blessedly remaining a mask of innocent curiosity at the scrutiny.

My inner self drops to their knees, raising their hands to the heavens, and yells an echoing 'nooo' at the blunder.

_Shit! Shit! Not subtle! Not subtle at all! I should not be trying to prod for information on anything when I'm barely cognitive...._

Suspicion and mistrust are quickly masked, smoothing into a look of nonchalant as he answers. However he can't hide the perceptive sharpness of his eyes.

"An interesting question. Not many would think to link the two. There are only vague impressions in the Fade."

_Screw it. Already dug the hole._

"No an answer. Why name?"

His eyes narrow slightly at my insistence. "It is believed to be the origination of the Veil. Though, who can say what the true meaning is. Lost to time as it is."

"Dream there before?" Trying to steer the conversation into safer water, but I realize again that it was the wrong question to ask.

"I have dreamed in many places. Ruins of ancient civilizations long forgotten. Caverns and tunnels left untouched by man. Any can provide knowledge if one is willing to look."

_Yeah, that wasn't what I asked. Jesus, how in the world did no one call him out on these things?_

"Like spiders that much huh?" Grasping the redirect in subject.

It earns me a small quirk of his lips.

"They are content to live and let live if you leave food. And I do set wards for the more adventurous creatures."

I was curious what the 'more adventurous' creatures were, and would have asked if not for the sudden gust of wind that almost sent me flat into the snow.

Solas waits for me to regain my footing before releasing me.

"Forgive me. You are still recovering. I should have chosen somewhere closer to speak."

"It fine. Just tired."

"Come, I will walk you back. The coming days will be difficult, you should rest while you can."

I don't argue with him, I just nod my agreement and let him lead me back.

When we reach the edge of camp, I stop. There was one thing that required immediate attention. I had been lucky before but I couldn't take a chance that it would stay that way.

"Cole. Know where Cole?"

Solas must not have been expecting my interest in the forgettable boy, his face twisting into uncertainty at my request. "He has been helping to tend to the wounded. There." He indicates with an incline of his head.

"Thank you. Goodnight, Solas." Forcing him to let me go alone.

Where I wasn't too concerned about anyone hearing me and Cole speak since he could make them forget, I wasn't betting he could do that to Solas. I mean, he had been able to make Cole forget...

"Tired, but can't sleep. I must find him." Cole's voice comes from my right.

"Cole, need-"

"Thoughts of another world, stories, lives. You worry I may say something."

"Yes. Fine with other thoughts. Please, no those. Tell no one. No one. Want you stay, help. Like you very much, but will no chance if you will no."

"Talking about those things would hurt you, hurt others. You think so."

"Yes. Please."

He wrings his hands for a moment, gazing at me from under his wide hat. "You're a Creator, it would be wrong to say no. I only wish to help. If this will give you peace, I will promise. Though _he_ would understand."

It felt as if my heart was being squeezed, I knew who he was referring to.

"No Creator, Cole." I respond sadly. I was not something that would help or save the world like a divine presence would. I didn't want to lie to Cole or give him a false impression, even if he was capable of seeing the truth in people.

"Not for this world. But your soul, it's _more_. It's strong. Bright, blazing, blinding in its intensity."

I didn't know how to reply to that. "Thank you, Cole." Not knowing what else I could say.

He only nods as he disappears with a _poof_ , presumably to comfort more of the wounded.

I trudge back to the cot I was previously sleeping in and flop unceremoniously onto it. I was drained and bone tired, but I lie awake, unable to sleep.

_My soul is more? What does that mean? Is it because I'm real and come from the real world, so that makes it more?_

A weary sigh passes my lips.

_It doesn't matter. It's almost over and I won't have to worry about it anymore. Skyhold is right there. I just need to get there._

Picking at that thread was sure to lead down a convoluted rabbit hole. I push the nagging thoughts away, intending to forget and ignore the subject. Too bad it's easier said than done.


	14. Chapter 14

The days to Skyhold had been long and arduous. Pace sloth-like due to the number of wounded and supplies in tow. During those days I couldn't help but peer over at Solas, imagining him tapping his fingers together and saying 'excellent' at the tranquil golem blindly listening to him.

On multiple occasions he would catch me glowering sourly at him or shaking my head in exasperation. To which he would raise a brow or tilt his head in confusion. Poor bastard was probably wondering if the crazy gremlin had finally snapped.

Finally setting foot on the bridge, so many emotions ran through me; elation, fear, relief, anxiety, expectation. All poignant and overwhelming in their intensity.

I felt the change in the atmosphere the second I passed the gates, shivers racing over me from the sensation of electric charges stroking my skin. The air was practically alive with magic, bouncing and mischievous one moment, then wispy and lazily drifting the next.

It was unseasonably warm inside the protective walls, feeling as though spring had come to the middle of the mountains. Leaving many a mystified face as people divested themselves of excess clothing or run the risk of overheating.

There was so much rubble and devastation throughout Skyhold that only the yard and parts of the barracks offered livable space. Cullen and Cassandra quickly took stock of the castle and set about dividing able bodies to cleaning up. Even I was drafted, having been assigned to help clear the kitchens and effectively delaying my plans.

It wasn't until nightfall that I made my way to the gardens and the isolated room beyond, muscles aching and sore from hard labor.

The Eluvian stands just as I imagined.

Floating dust motes and shimmering moonlight bestow a dark and mysterious aura as I tentatively reach to run the tips of my fingers over the glass. It remains cold and solid beneath my touch, not so much as a ripple appearing.

"Flemeth! Know about Mythal! About Veil and Dread Wolf! Speak with me! Flemeth! Mythal!"

My calls echo in the desolate room, unanswered.

I repeat my pleas until my voice becomes hoarse and I finally stop. Accepting that the summons were for naught. Dejectedly I turn away from Eluvian and move to find my bed for the night.

Josephine finds me the next morning, pulling me from my work to 'take care of necessities' as she called it.

"Lady Lavellan, I had hoped to do this sooner but with the attack on Haven and subsequent flight, there seemed to be no time. Well, I would like to remedy that now."

"Remedy what?" Insanely baffled as to what was happening.

She eyes me uncomfortably, obviously trying to figure out the best way to broach whatever subject was bothering her.

"Your attire. I mean, not that there is anything wrong with it! It's...well...It does not fit your station. You have been wearing nothing but hand-me-downs and ill fitting ones at that. A seamstress was at Haven when the attack came, fortunately she came with us and would be honored to serve you."

"Ah. Really needed?"

"We must send the right message. Appearances can carry as much weight as words, Herald."

"Fine. Lead on." Sighing and hoping this didn't take all day.

Josephine leads me up stairs and fallen wooden beams to the room that would eventually become the Inquisitor's. A tall, elegantly yet simply, dressed woman stands amid sketches and fabrics. She spins at our approach and curtsies low .

"Lady Herald! It is an pleasure to meet you! And to think I will be the one to dress you. It is an honor indeed! Thank you for the opportunity, my lady."  

"No, thank you."

My response seems to please her, for she beams brightly at me and proceeds to enthusiastically show me different styles and fabrics.

It did in fact take all day. In the end it had been a collaboration of me sketching designs best suited to my style with her fine tuning and adding little things I did not think of. I picked the lightest and softest materials she had, choosing comfort over protection.

My part done, I leave Josephine and the seamstress to talk shop while I head back to the Eluvian.

No one bothers me as I make my way through the destroyed hall and it is blessedly deserted in the gardens as I slip inconspicuously into the isolated room. Tonight ends as the last. My futile entreaties falling on deaf ears and forcing me to once again leave in failure. Two days pass with the same results.

On the fifth day, I was well and truly pissed. There should be no reason that Flemeth, or Mythal -or whatever she stupidly preferred- couldn't hear me. It stood to reason then that she was ignoring me. Well, I was tired of playing by the rules and getting nowhere.

I was on my way to try again before getting to work when I spotted a vaguely familiar figure attempting to speak with the veteran soldiers. I draw closer to make out their face, pleasant surprise and a smile surfacing when I see who it was.

I had wondered when I would see them or if I had somehow missed them.

"Need something?" I ask with a goofy grin.

He breaks from his discussion and twists to focus on me.

"Excuse me, my lady. My name is Cremisius Aclassi with the Bull's Chargers Mercenary Company. I've an invitation from my company Commander, The Iron Bull. Originally I was to pass on the message in Haven, but it was already buried when I got there. Had to follow the wagon tracks through the snow, cold business that. Anyway, we received intel that Tevinter mercenaries have been gathering on the Storm Coast. The Chargers would like to use this opportunity to meet and work with the Inquisition. Of course you are free to see us in action, decide if we're worth the price. "

"Agreed! Let me speak with others. Come with me."

Since my plans had come to a screeching halt and it was driving me nuts, what better way to feel better then to go adventuring and punch things?

Usually Cullen was hanging around the barracks with Cassandra not too far away. I search there first, Krem trailing respectfully behind.

"Cullen! Cassandra! Someone for you to meet!"

Both drop what they are doing and move to stand with us.

"Cassandra, Cullen. Meet Cremisius Aclassi." Gesturing to Krem beside me. "Mercenary with Bull's Chargers. We invited to Sword Coast to watch them. Tevinter been spotted there. Would be good to go."

"The Charger's are the best you will find. We're strong, and we're loyal."

"Be that as it may, mercenaries have a tendency to be unpredictable. I'm not sure we need sellswords, Herald."

"Cullen, Inquisition need forces. Need soldiers. Inquisition should watch, see what Charger's offer."

He silently mulls over the suggestion, clearly weighting the pros and cons of having mercenaries inflate the troops.

"Cullen, Lavellan is only asking that we observe them. It will allow us the chance to determine if they would be a good fit for the Inquisition." Cassandra states, effectively winning the argument in my favor.

He shakes his head at the double assault, "fine. Do as you wish. When would you leave for this excursion?"

"I need to get back to the Charger's. I have already been absent longer then intended. I plan to depart tomorrow. You are welcome to join, or I can give you a map of where to find us if you prefer."

_Oh God. Not another map._

"Tomorrow good for us Cassandra?"

"Well, it is short notice but it would not be too difficult to put together a party. Is there anyone in particular you have in mind for it?"

"Hehe, yes." Knowing exactly who would be great for this.

"Then we shall be in your care, Sir Aclassi."

Krem offers a firm nod before excusing himself to tend to preparations.

I stand with Cullen and Cassandra for long minutes, going over who we will need and what to take with us. Then I too take my leave, wanting to take one final crack at the Eluvian.

The halls and garden are bustling as more people arrive to join the Inquisition or come seeking sanctuary from nearby settlements. It's difficult and a lengthy wait, but eventually a gap in attention presents itself and I dart inside.

"Mythal, Flemeth! Whatever! Know you can hear me! Speak with me!" The expected silence answers my shout.

"Flemeth! You want Morrigan! Know where she is! Speak to me!"

Stillness is the only response. Rage and desperation take root as I glare at the calm Eluvian, pushing it with my hands.

"Speak to me now or Morrigan dies! You leave me no choice! Would do it to spite you! Hold no reason no to! Last chance, Flemeth!"

The swell of magic and feeling of falling into thick water catches me off guard as I stumble into the Eluvian. A sense that I would swallow water and be swept away by a current creating a moment of fear. It's disorienting when I appear in the Crossroads breathing normally and standing upright.  

"You're quite cheeky for a mortal. Tell me girl, why should I not kill you?"

I square myself up before replying. Giving Flemeth a look of bravery and determination.

"Killing Herald would no serve you. You direct, no take action. No yet anyway. Know much."

"Pray tell, how does a simple Dalish child know so much?" Face devoid of emotion except for the hardening of her eyes, Flemythal steps closer. Her eyes penetrating as she looks at me, seeming as though they are delving into my very being.

"Your spirit...it is different. As I look deeper I can feel just how much...It is a presence I had thought never to see again...There are stories that you have been touched by Andraste. That you spoke in tongues. Speak now. I don't wish to solve your broken ramblings." She waves her hand dismissively in my direction, golden lights appearing, suspended in the air like glittering fireflies as a feeling of being covered in a wet blanket surrounds me.

_"Eww. What is this? What did you do?"_

"Calm yourself, girl. It is only a simple spell of Intention. Now, what are you? You are no Dalish elf, even if your spirit wears the appearance of one."

_"Wait. You've felt a spirit like mine before? There have been others? How did they get home? Where are they?"_

"It was long ago. An age forgotten and destroyed by time." Voice sounding almost mournful. "It matters not. I ask of you, and you _will_ answer."

I hold my tongue at the order, knowing I needed her and I would have better luck by not antagonizing a once elven 'god'.

_"I'm just a normal human. I came from another world, I don't know how I got here. I thought you would know or could at least send me back. You're the only person with the knowledge and power capable of doing it. Please, I will tell you about Morrigan in exchange. I just want to go home."_

She cackles at my explanation and request. Her face twisting into a sneer of superiority.

"Child, I can do no such thing."

_"W-what? Why? There must be something you want in exchange! I know you have the power!"_

"Oh, I do. That is not the problem. No...it is that you have nothing tying you to your world. You are firmly here. There is nothing I can do."

I stare unseeing at the ground, crestfallen and speechless. My mouth opening and closing to find something to say.

_"I-I'm stuck here?...there is no way back?"_

"No. Everything that you are is here. Though by the looks of it, it was in better shape before. What have you been doing with yourself, I wonder?"

The query feels like it came out of left field, catching me by surprise, and I lift my head to gawk at Flemythal. _"_ _W-what? I don't understand."_

"Your soul, silly girl! Do you not notice? It's being unraveled. Are you performing magic too strong for you perhaps?"

At my expression of shock and horror, she throws her head back again, cackling.

"Oh! You thought you were powerful is that it? That you could do such wondrous things with no consequences, hmm? Well, that's not to say it is impossible. But as you are, you are only clumsily destroying yourself."

She turns away, seemingly done with me.

_"Wait! How do I fix it? Why would Solas not say anything about it? Why hasn't Solas cast this spell? Why does he have to tear down the Veil? What will happen when he does?"_

So many questions I wanted to ask her, so many mysteries that could so easily be solved if she would but help.

Flemythal pauses before an Eluvian, only shifting her head to gaze at me intently. "Fix it? So long as it is given a chance to heal, a whole spirit will recover. As to the Dread Wolf, well, he is diminished as he is."

Brilliant silvery light shines, then she's gone. Leaving me standing numb and alone within the solitary desolation of the Crossroads.


	15. Chapter 15

It feels as though I stand for an eternity with my head bowed and fists shaking at my sides. The weighty stillness of the Crossroads a poison to my already fractured resolve, mocking my fruitless struggle.

My face raises heavenward and I yell. I yell out in rage, in frustration, in despair...in acceptance. Pouring every emotion I had tried so valiantly to repress. It rings through the Crossroads, filling the Void.

_"I"M STUCK HERE?! THIS IS MY FATE IS IT?! ACCEPT IT AND BE THE GODDAMN MESSIAH??! SCREW THAT! SCREW ALL OF IT! DESCENT INTO MADNESS IT IS! I WILL LIVE AS I CHOOSE, NOT AS SOME PAWN! I REFUSE TO BE BROKEN, YOU HEAR ME?!! THIS WON'T BREAK ME!"_

Who my impassioned speech was directed at I couldn't tell you. Perhaps at whatever entity that had brought me here? Destiny or Flemythal? The world? Myself?

I cover my face with clenched fists, shaking my head and panting from the emotional release.

_What have I been doing all this time then? I stayed away from getting attached to anyone, from getting invested in what happens to them. I tried so hard...and for what?_

_'Tra la la la~ have fun losing your arm!'_

_Yeah... FUCK THAT!_

_There isn't anything holding me back anymore. If I can't go home, then I will follow my heart. I won't ask for forgiveness, won't offer an explanation. I will stay true to my beliefs, I won't lose myself. I won't allow this place to mold me._

Hands falling to my sides, I straighten and stand tall. Eyes burning with renewed purpose and determination.

_I won't survive. I will live!_

Placing my fingers on the Eluvian, I push through, this time prepared for the odd pressure. Sounds of life and crickets greet me when I exit into the garden, shades of pink and orange playing over the grass and stone as the sun sets.

I continue through, knowing exactly where I wanted to go.

Soft light from hanging torches and candles create an inviting atmosphere as I enter the rotunda. The blue of Veilfire set against makeshift scaffolding a blaring contrast to the glow. Casting Solas' features into hauntingly striking shadows as I watch black stained fingers deftly outline what would later become the Inquisitor's journey.

I lean against the scaffold, loath to interrupt his moment of peace. Instead I observe his work, finding pleasure in the simple comfort his presence brings. The fears, anxiety, and doubt of this world melting away until I can once again feel completely like myself and safe. My eyes wander to his shoulders and back, taking in the strength and graceful arc. So many burdens and so much remorse carried alone, yet I would add more by my very existence and wishes. Guilt pierces me as I stand there, knowing I was being selfish by being here but powerless to stay away.

Illogically, fiercely; I wanted this man.

I knew he was not real but still I liked him. I was shallow enough to admit that I found him incredibly pretty and that had a part in it, but there was so much more. The quirk in his mouth when he found something funny, his eyes as they brightened with unbridled joy when he spoke of the Fade. His snarky remarks when goaded, his subtle jokes and mischievousness that poked through his polite demeanor at times.

And the confidence that was beginning to show more and more as he let the mask slip.

Oh the confidence, such a heady attractant.

So many qualities that drew me like a moth to the deadly flame. Knowing full well that only burning consumption was awaiting in the blaze but unable to fly away.

It didn't matter what excuse I had, I couldn't escape it. His slender fingers, his low and clear voice. The heat when he's near. Somehow he had wormed his way in and now the last binding to sanity was gone thanks to Flemythal's revelation. There was no escape for me now.

Solas finishes the section he was working on and moves to the table in the center of the room. Setting the charcoal down and wiping his hands.

"Is there something you need?"

"No really. Like your work."

"Thank you. Cassandra has been by. I'm surprised you would want my company on this excursion. Given your feelings about me."

I laugh at the idea of what he must think after the looks I had given him on the trip here.

"No. Sorry, like you, Solas. Women odd sometimes."

He may be infuriating at times and I would love to kick him in the shin, but I liked him regardless.

"Mm." Brow raised and clearly not trusting that answer.

I push from the wood and walk to him, biting my lip before broaching one of my concerns.

"Will you teach me control? Fade that is. Dreams."

"You desire to explore the Fade? It is not a common choice among mages, especially the Dalish. Nevertheless, I would not dissuade anyone wishing to learn more." Genuinely astonished by my request.

"Thank you! When can we try?" Beaming and feeling immensely relieved.

"Tonight if you like."

I eagerly nod, excited at the prospect. His expression as he studies me has me quizzically staring back.

"What?"

"Forgive me. It is only you are not as I anticipated. Most Dalish consider themselves the sole keepers of elven lore and secrets, their interest in the Fade limited to superstition. To meet someone seeking lessons is...unexpected."

"Sorry, always been weird." Chuckling at the idea of what life would have been like if I had been forced to live with the Dalish first before meeting everyone. I would have been chased out with arrows and spears as they cried 'Abomination!', for sure.

"I would not consider that a failing. Few try to reach a broader understanding of the world."

I shrug at his opinion, knowing he had yet to truly get to know the rest of the inner circle. It was going to surprise him when they pop that little bubble of his.

"You can keep working if you like. Would like to watch if it alright."

"If you wish."

Turning, I move to the loveseat, happy he didn't seem to mind the company. Clouds of dust waft up when I flop down, causing me to cough as I unsuccessfully try to wave them away. I knew my clothes would be covered in dust, but I settle into a loose ball facing Solas. I figured I could always go roll around in the snow outside Skyhold to wipe it off.

I gaze at the elegant strokes as he continues his sketch, assured and unhurried. Letting my thoughts wander as I silently trace his form, memorizing his subtle movements and face as he becomes absorbed in his art.

_He has such a guarded and lackluster view of the world. It would be wrong to tell him what I know, as little as it is. Solas is Solas at this moment. Allowing himself peace and freedom. The mantle of Fen'Harel isn't consuming him or overshadowing Solas the man, it isn't bearing down on him like a weight he is forced to carry. It would be wrong to deny him the lasting friendships that would remind him of who he is._

Solas pauses, stepping back to view his progress. After a quick scan, he moves back, adding small details here and there.

_I need to know more. I am still so blindingly ignorant on so many things. Do I try to change his mind about the Veil? And if that fails, then stubbornly refuse to leave him? Or just go along with it coming down? What is the right choice here? He has so much pain, regret...longing. Choosing to destroy the Veil brings him such anguish. It screams to be heard over his determination, that tiny shadow of doubt trying to steer him from his course. What could be so important that he would willing lose himself that way?_

Compassion and sorrow wrap me in their gnarled roots as I lay there; yearning to hug him, to tell him he won't be alone, that someone will stand with him no matter how profound the darkness.    

~

I come awake with a gasp, bolting upright. At some point I had fallen asleep, lulled by the warmth in the rotunda and knowledge that I was safe with Solas nearby.

The first clue that something was off was the sheer cleanliness of the rotunda around me. It was pristine in appearance and devoid of any decay. The second? The sensations and atmosphere of the place.

I was in the Fade, no doubt about it.

In the real world I had been a lucid dreamer. This...this was lucid dreaming on steroids.

The fluidity of the Fade was like a living, breathing organism. Every sensation was magnified to the point it was stronger than in the waking world. The feeling of invincibility and exhilarating freedom so powerful that it demanded action, adventure; an outlet.  

Uninhibited laughter bursts forth as I twirl in the rotunda, positively brimming with energy.

"I'm glad you enjoy the Fade."

I come to a stuttered halt, a shit eating grin on my face.

 _"_ Solas! _You're here. I didn't realize I had fallen asleep. Then here I was! It feels so...so...I don't know! But it is glorious!"_

It hits me that in my excitement, I had forgotten to speak Common and watch my words.

"I am happy you think so. Many fear the Fade, never delving into its depths to see the wonders it holds."

_Ah crap! How do I explain away my comment? There's no way to take it other than 'FADE NOOB!'._

"The Fade is shaped by imagination, perception, and intent. You need not force yourself to speak Common."

I was relieved he had misinterpreted my 'oh shit' face for shock that he had understood me.

However, he was hiding the fact that Fade or not, he could understand me. He had just chosen to omit that detail and instead misdirected me with how the Fade functioned. I didn't know how to feel about that....

"It is surprising that a Keeper would ignore their duty to their First. They were remiss to not impart any understanding of the Fade to you, as limited as it is."

His expression is unreadable as he studies me. My mind churning over ideas about how to warp this into a non-answer.

"Some mages require a trauma to awaken their latent talent."

 _"I never cast magic before the explosion at the Conclave."_ Deciding truth in this instance was unavoidable.

"That was never in doubt."

Without so much as a shimmer or wrinkle, the scenery changes. The frost covered roads of Haven appearing in the blink of an eye.

"Your magic is potent, but unrefined. Using more than what is needed. However, so many would not have lived if not for your power. Haven may have fallen, but the memory remains. It will always be important to you." He walks the path leading to the Chantry, seemingly letting the matter of my inexperience pass.

I follow, jittery from the excess sensations bombarding me and from the sense that maybe I had failed some sort of test.

_"Haven was but a place. Places don't really hold meaning for me. They are only stone or wood, something easily replaced. Maybe they will never be the same, but they can be rebuilt. People are meaningful. Well, not **people** ,but certain individuals."_

"I expect the nomadic lives of the Dalish would lead one to believe that. A sad and narrow view of the world. Cities, temples -even fields, may perhaps be restored to a semblance of once was, but the beauty, the history, the wonder...Everything it was, lost forever."

I chose to ignore that condescending comment.

_"Events have a way of changing depending on who is telling the story, yes. But I don't agree about the beauty of a place. You can build a structure more marvelous than the last, fields and trees can grow anew, become even more lush and vibrant from having survived destruction. Do fires not do this? They burn everything, leaving nothing but ash in their wake. Yet, plants find a way to come back, more alive and breathtaking then before. Without change, the world would become stagnant and there would be no meaning, no reason to strive for better."_

"That is one interpretation. Stagnation breeds boredom. Boredom raises familiarity, then eventually contempt." Expression and tone sounding as though his thoughts are faraway, gaze almost mournful.

Solas was neither agreeing or denying my opinion, his response going over my head. I don't even think it was meant for me.

_"Sounds like what happened to the Elven gods doesn't it?"_

He shifts his weight, leaning to one side as he focuses on me.

"Perhaps. The Dalish share few legends that do not paint their Pantheon in a positive light. Do you not believe them?"

_"Believe the stories? Or that they were gods?"_

"The old tales, but I would listen to your perspective of the gods." Solas' full attention and curiosity now firmly zeroed on my reply.

_"They both go hand in hand don't they? I mean, I'm certain there are grains of truth buried deeply in the myths but they are so hidden that they are all but impossible to find. Aspects get changed or warped to fit an agenda until the real story is unrecognizable. I always believed there were three truths to any situation. Two are what others perceive is the truth, each different from the other. And the third is the actual truth, the one that is overlooked. As to the elven 'gods', well that is a matter of what one considers a 'god'. If immense power greater than anyone else's and the ability to do whatever you want makes you a god, then yes they were. But I am more inclined to think they were just stronger than the average person living during that time and took advantage of it. Look at what is already happening to me. In a hundred years, a thousand; what will my story be? Will the Herald of Andraste be a devote human Andrastian? The epitome of righteousness and all that is good in the world? I'll be lucky if they let my tale die in obscurity."_

Snorting disgustedly at the thought of what the Chantry will do when I was dead and unable to naysay whatever they deemed to come up with. Shoot, look at what they had done to Inquisitor Ameridan hundreds of years after his death.

My description and lack of trust in the Chantry earns me a chuckle snort from Solas.

"You may be right. The Chantry does enjoy embellishing it's heroes."

_"Do you know of any interesting stories of the Pantheon?"_

"I have learned countless in my travels. Tales of greed and vanity; sacrifice and compassion. Two sides of the same facet, a reflection of the double-edged sword that is power. It is said Falon'Din's appetite for adulation was so great, he began wars to amass more worshippers. The blood of those who wouldn't bow low filled lakes as wide as oceans. Mythal rallied the Gods , once the shadow of Falon'Din's hunger stretched across her own people. It was too late. Falon'Din only surrendered when his brethren bloodied him in his own temple."

Solas shifts then to the Chantry behind us, gesturing to encompass it all.

"A place of worship and solace. The devout pilgrimage to be closer to their god, to show their faith. Such is the same for any age. The Dalish tell of a time the Twin Souls became separated, unable to find the other. Silence reigned as Falon'Din secluded himself from the world, uncaring of its woes. His supplicants turning from him as hundreds of years passed with nary a whisper. Until only a single priest remained. So great was his devotion, he sacrificed parts of himself to Falon'Din in penance for the disrespect of the others. As the last piece of himself fell away, Falon'Din appeared to guide his spirit to the afterlife as a reward for his unwavering loyalty."

_"Hmm...So he was a dick and sometimes not. Sucks for the priest that it took so long before Falon'Din decided to grace him with his presence."_

"Such fidelity is commonplace even now is it not? Religious sects expecting steadfast faith. Not all are deserving of your censure."

My lips thin at the implication I was intolerant.

_"Not censure. I have no problem with religion or anyone who practices. A person can worship a rock for all I care. Just don't expect me to pray to it as well. If it's not something that is forced on others or hurts people or animals, then who cares what someone believes? They're just minding their own business. What I think is ridiculous is when you decide to torture yourself because your 'god' needs you too."_

"Unfortunately there are always the extremists. Apologies, I misjudged your sarcasm's target."

I wave his apology away. Giving him a lopsided grin. _"Don't worry about it. It's pretty hard to get me mad about anything. Plus my brand of humor and irony takes a little while to get used to."_

"I suspect there will be plenty of chances to get better acquainted. If I am being honest, you are a mystery. A mortal who walked physically in the Fade and lived. Your speech, your mannerisms, the magic you wield. Actions that no living person should be capable of, yet here you stand. Impossibilities and unknowns given form."

I can't help myself, I step into his space, so close that if I was to take a deep breath our chests would touch.

_"Don't you like riddles?"_

Hands linked behind my back to keep myself from reaching for him, I tilt my head up, gazing into his eyes. Waiting for his response, letting him determine the outcome of this exchange. Solas' lids lower as he stares down at me intently. His pupils dilating as his eyes move over my face, feeling like a soft caress as they take in my eyes, my cheeks; before settling on my lips.

I hold my breath in anticipation at the interest in his face, leaning in just a little more and rising up on tip toes in invitation. Solas bends as if to meet me, breathes mingling for a hairsbreadth before he shakes his head as if to clear it and takes a step back.

"Very much, puzzles hold a seductive attractant." Voice an octave lower than before.

I settle back down, unlinking my fingers and trying to hide my disappointment.

I was thinking of a witty comment to that when a lobster surfing the air currents on a cheese wheel drifts past. The mood of before utterly broken at the sight.

_Oh my god brain, WHY?! Why must you do this to me?!_

Solas' chuckle wipes away my regret, replacing it with pride and happiness that I had made him smile.

"Perhaps we should start your lessons."

Smirking, I cheerfully agree. Listening all the while to his captivating voice.


	16. Chapter 16

"The Veil...she is moldy and pruney here."

Solas purses his lips at Sera's jab.

"I do not sound like that. And I don't always mention it..." Grumbling the last.

"Oh, you do. You really do." Dorian remarks, adding a touch of harried sarcasm.

"You think about it a lot."

Cole's innocent matter-of-fact tone has me fighting to keep from laughing. Immensely amused at the trolling. It was my little revenge on Solas to take along Sera, Dorian, and Blackwall to meet Iron Bull. Cassandra had stayed behind to help with repairs, saying she trusted my judgment. Varric had likewise declined to come, mentioning there was some important business for him to get to. I assumed it had something to do with Hawk since there had been no sign of them yet. As for Vivienne, well I may understand her motivations and respect her; but her repeated sneers at Cole had worn on me. I figured it wouldn't hurt to let her sit this one out to give everyone a break from each other.

Taking a direct northerly route and skirting along the coastline had saved us quite a few possible skirmishes by bypassing much of the mainland. Though the cost had been constant rain and drizzle. The steady downpour had put a damper on spirits and everyone looked like drowned rats, especially me with my water logged baggy clothes; but they still trudged through without much complaint.

By Krem's estimation, we had another few hours before the Charger's rendezvous point and had stopped to rest. Even he had joined in a time or two to add a joke, finding Team Hot Mess quite friendly and receptive to newcomers.

Heads together, Sera and Blackwall whisper feverishly, as if having some sort of debate. They stop suddenly, turning to Solas.

"Solas. Sera and I were just talking, and we're wondering if you could settle something for us."

"Sera is involved." A harassed sigh and _tsk_ coming from him. "So this will be offensive."

Sera's soft cackling and evilly gleeful expression does nothing to dissuade that notion.  

"Yes, probably. Sorry." Chuckling all the while. "It's probably going to earn me a fireball to the face."

"But you're going to grit your teeth and work through it." Solas tiredly comments.

"You make friends with spirits in the Fade. So, um...Are there any that are more than just 'friends', if you know what I mean."

"Oh for--Really?!"

"Look, it's a natural thing to be curious about!"

"For a twelve year old."

Blackwall's soft laugh gently carries across the camp for a moment, before he good-naturedly presses, "it's a simple yes or no question."

"Nothing about the Fade or spirits is simple...Especially not that!"

"HAHA! So you _do_ have experience in these matters!"

"I did not say that." Solas is quick to supply.

"Don't panic. It will be our little secret." Blackwall ends with a wink.

"Ass."

"HAHA, _now_ who's twelve."

"Ohhhhhh...Such a dirty birdie Mr. Prim and Proper is. 'Let me show you my Pride!'"

"Now, now; we shouldn't judge." Face the spitting image of sincerity as Dorian continues, "I mean, how _does_ one get it on with a spirit? All ghostly auras and vapory forms...My, what determination you have Solas."

My face is buried in my hands, attempting to stifle the mirth so I don't miss anything. Stomach hurting and having difficulty breathing from laughing so hard.

"If you expect their bodies to be solid, they will be."

Multiple teasing _Ohs_ and _Ahs_ answer Cole's serious rejoinder.

"Ignore them, Cole. You would not wish to catch their absurdity."

"It's contagious?"

"Very." Solas dryly counters.

~

"AHHAHAHA! A Dalish elf is the Herald of Andraste! Oh, how the Chantry must love you."

Smirking at Bull's initial reaction to seeing me, "Gotta love the irony. The Chantry butt hurt knows no bounds."

"Indeed. Though your much smaller than I figured, younger too. Didn't know elves came in pint-size."

"Hehe, I may be little but I pack a punch." I joke good-naturedly, pretty use to comments on my height. "Were you expecting a rickety old lady?"

"No, just not a teenager. It doesn't bothering me though. Quality leadership isn't always dependent on age and from what I hear, you have been doing good things so far."

My grin morphs into a full smile at that. "I'm not a teenager."

Varying 'what?!'s come from my companions, making me hoot with laughter at their disbelieving expressions.

"Twenty-seven, my friends."

"Is that another mage thing? Ugh, why can't you people ever be normal?"

"Whatever you use, well done. Though you will never be as fabulous as me. Still, good try."

I only snort in amusement at Dorian's self assured attitude.

The meeting continues pleasantly enough, Bull laying out his terms and revealing his spy-ship. Even with the duplicity of Bull's loyalty, I welcome him aboard. The Inquisition already had Qunari and Fen'Harel spies or it would eventually, so what was the harm of another?

Plus, now I had the ultimate troll team. No way was I missing out on that.

Was my original thought; however reality was proving to be a much more difficult beast as we traveled down the coast to clear out a group of troublesome bandits.

There had been a period with each new addition to the inner circle of head butting and snark, but that had died down to uneasy truces and even grudging respect in some cases. This time, it was getting utterly heated and to the point that an energy ball or punch to the face was entirely likely. The other members looking uncertain but hesitant to get in the middle.

"-how could you expect anything else from them? Subjugated, mindless drones incapable of thought. Their strings pulled by the whims of the Qun. If they believe otherwise, are they not rounded up by your priests and given barbaric reeducation?"

I listen to their arguing , keeping a wary eye on the two from my peripheral. Expecting the debate to putter out soon.

That was not what happened.

"-are nothing more than savages. Killing is all they know. The Ben-Hassrath are trying to lose fewer people to that sickness."

"It isn't a sickness! Your people are losing them because they see a chance for freedom! And most of them are 'savage' as you say, because your culture taught them nothing else. They know nothing but the Qun, so even as they fight against it, they are guided by it's principles."

"Watch it elf...You haven't seen-" Every word practically coming as a growl.

_Come on Solas...might be pushing it a little now...Surely he wouldn't keep poking the bear, right? Right?!_

"-that baseless brutality is the result of a lifetime of being told that it is their nature. To fight against it is to oppose their very selves and the order of the world. That only torment and suffering await if they break from the mold!"

Fiercer growling from Bull tells me it's time to call a quits.

"Alrighty then! Time for a time out!" Stepping between the two and making a T with my hands. "Maybe we take separate paths to the bandits? Give each other a break?...maybe calm our tits..." Mumbling the last under my breath.

A collective relieved sigh passes at the suggestion from the others.

"It is unnecessary. I will refrain from discussing the dubious nature of the Qun." Solas states with obvious displeasure. I did not miss the 'for now' that was left unsaid in his tone.

"Agreed. I'm sure I can keep my _crude, primitive_ self under control." Backhanded sarcasm firmly directed at Solas.

"Yeah...let's just try it anyway...less chance of them escaping if we come from two directions."

"As you wish."

The Charger's had already been dispatched to scout the coast, marking anything of interest to be investigated later. It left the seven of us alone to deal with the bandits and me figuring out who to keep together.

Eyeing the map, I settle on the mages and Blackwall sticking to the hilly road while the rest of us take the shoreline. Sera and Cole were the mellowest at this point so better to team them with Bull for now. Plus, I was hoping to catch a glimpse of what an actual dragon would look like, not some tainted corpselike demon dragon.

I can see my decision does not sit well with Solas, but he accepts it without comment. Reluctantly I lead my team of four away from the muddy path, a little nervous not having his steadying presence with me.

The rain slicked rocks make for treacherous going as we pick our way; or at least it was for me. Cole and Sera seemed to have no trouble at all, practically gliding over the stones. Even Bull with his huge bulk was able to make it look easy.

Through the wet mist we can see the end of our pebbly beach and a cavern providing the only way forward.

On closer inspection dwarven ruins could be seen farther inside while faint gray light from an alternate beach exit highlights the route we needed to take.

Bull moves to take lead as we edge inside, eyeing the shadows.

"Cold, damp, hungry. So very hungry. Sounds to break the stillness. Only silence should be here. Something comes..."

"Creepy's doing it again..."

"Kid, that just makes it weird."

A hair-raising _clickclickclick_ comes from our left, not from the shadowy doorway of the ruins as we had expected. Squinting and peering into the dark, nothing is discernible and we slowly back away to the new beach.

 _Clickclickclick_!

Then there it is. Movement from the shadows. Not near the flood but along the walls and crawling up the ceiling.

Arrows are loosened in quick succession, lodging into the shadows with a fleshy thunk. I take aim at one and hurl small energy spears, briefly illuminating our mystery foes.

_"AH HELL NO!"_

More crawl along the walls and from the ruins, attracted by the scent of blood. Bloated bodies and long wiry legs hastily scurrying to devour the fallen and us as they swarm.

Cole and Bull strike out at the Spiders attempting to jump them, limbs and gooey innards splattering over the ground.

 _"EWW, EWW, EWW!"_ Content to fling magic and let the others get up close and personal with the Spiders.

"What? You have a thing about spiders or somethin'? HAHA! No way! You run around in demon bits all day and not even an arse twitch."

"Hey, spiders are disturbing! You're minding your own business and you feel a wispy touch on you. You ignore it, thinking it's your brain just being weird. Feel it again and you think 'oh, must be a stray hair!'. Go to brush it away, and NOPE! It's a fucking spider. They can crawl up walls and along ceilings...drop down on you...they can jump...and sometimes if you squish one, thousands of babies like a goddamn, fucking plague of tiny nightmares burst forth...UGH! NO!"

Sera only giggles at my squeamishness and continues to add to our already impressive piles of spider carcasses.

With a grunt, Bull cleaves through the last as it pounces straight for him. Half of its torso cut down the middle.

"They ain't that bad. Look!" Picking up one of the 'small' ones still twitching on the end of one of her arrows.

"Huu-eew-ew...It's still moving! UH!" Backing up and flatting myself against the cavern wall.

"Check it out, Boss, you will like this one!" Bull jokes as he tosses one straight for me.

With a _Geh!,_ and girlish scream that I'm not too proud of, I put up both hands and blast it with magic. Thick yellow-green goo explodes in a shower of stickiness -hitting me full on.

Howls of laughter echo in the cavern at the mess covering my face and front.

"...I hate you both..." Spitting goop from my mouth and vainly attempting to wipe my face clean.

Snickers and snorts of amusement persist even as we exit out into the hazy light, the rain only a faint drizzle now. I clumsily shuffle over the slippery rocks, weariness starting to kick in from the long trek and fighting. Rumbles and shrill roars heard over the crashing waves have me eagerly trudging ahead and sliding over stones to get around the bend, fatigue all but forgotten.

The sight before me as I make the turn is everything I had hoped.

A dragon, a real live dragon snaps and slashes at a giant in the distance. A dazzling array of blues, silvers, and purples wetly gleaming in the overcast light. It was magnificent to behold from far away, and I did not doubt if the sun had been out, that the sight would be heart-stoppingly stunning.

"A dragon! OH TELL ME WE'RE FIGHTING IT, BOSS!"

"We're fighting her, yeah?! COME ON!"

"Big, very big...and angry."

I only half listen to the others, mesmerized by the miracle I was witnessing and not wanting to miss a second. I had wanted to see one ever since I was a little girl, fascinated and captivated by their majestic splendor.

I knew they wanted to fight it but we would never hurt one if I had any say about it. Mercenaries, mages, templars, demons, whatever; send them at me, I'll fight without regret or remorse. In this world you knew that once you picked up a weapon, you are responsible for what happens; either you fight or die. There was no pity, no guilt, or hard feelings. It just was.

However dragons...that was something I never wanted to harm. They were frightening, I could see that even from this distance, but that was usually the case with any wild creature. Dragons had an unearthly beauty that felt horribly wrong to extinguish. Every fiber of my being rebelled against the idea of causing pain to one.

My breath stops as I watch it take flight; abandoning the hunt. Following its every move, its every dip and graceful glide as it flies. I stand there frozen and staring wide eyed long after it vanishes into the mist.

Disappointed grunts and _aww_ 's come from Sera and Bull when it's gone, bringing me back from my trance.

"Gleaming, glittering. Wondrous to behold. Worth it. All the pain and sorrow was worth the cost of seeing one."

My eyes shift to Cole and I softly smile, "yes, yes it was."

I was loath to leave even though the dragon had disappeared, the surreal moment lingering still. Sadly I turn from the beach and carry on to the rendezvous point with the other team; knowing that whatever darkness or despair may come, this precious memory would hold strong for the rest of my life.

~

"Oh my...Did the coast fight back? You know, mud is supposed to be good for the skin but I don't think that is the right type."

I give Dorian a narrow eyed glare. I knew I probably looked worse then I imagined. Spider goo and mud covering me from tripping on the way up the hills.

"You're seeing things. Must be the age..."

Sera cackles happily as she looks at the others, "Missed it! Lady Glowy bits has a thing for spiders!"

I clear my throat with as much dignity as I can, feeling my cheeks flush. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Twin high pitched girlish screams abruptly rend the air, and it was no coincidence they just so happened to originate from the direction of Sera and Bull.

Crossing my arms and facing away while trying not to laugh as the blush intensifies a thousand fold, "I sounded nothing like that."

I had sounded exactly like that.

"Now, now. I'm sure you screamed-I mean yelled, with much strength behind it." Blackwall chuckles. "We did find something interesting on our way up as well."

"These bandits are calling themselves the Blades of Hessarian. It appears they have left this in the hopes we will challenge their leader." Solas hands me a rectangular golden amulet with a worn crest of a bird on it. I test the heft of it in my hands, wondering what it was made of. Certainly not gold as it first appeared since it was so light.

"Figures; the weak wankers are scared and expect us to take care of the problem for them." Sera sneers in disgust.

"A band of cutthroats and scallywags want to join us. What could possibly go wrong?"

"I like your optimism, Dorian." Blackwall says with a nod.

Twirling the pendent around my finger and gauging everyone's fatigue, I ask, "ready to go make friends?"

Faces clear and steady meet the inquiry with solid affirmatives. Not entirely sure what I was supposed to do, I keep the crest out and take the muddy path to the bandits' hideout.

A log fort nestled between two large hills surrounded by mossy trees marks the end of our search. Giant sharpened spikes jut from the ground in front to create a barrier against attackers. From the vines and plants growing along the wood, the makeshift fortress had been standing for quite a while. The sense of eyes watching our approach intensifies the closer we get to the gates. Only two guards are visible but I was sure there were others hidden among the trees and hills.

I hold up the crest, halting just out of reach of any archers.

"Knock, knock! The Inquisition has come! We received an invitation! Take us to your leader!" Snickering the last part.

The loud groaning of wood and creaking carries over to us as the gate opens and the guards step to the side, motioning for us to proceed.

"Careful, it could be a trap. Barriers at the ready." Without turning, I spare the barest hint of a nod to let Solas know I heard him before striding forward.

"Such cheery decorations these Blades of Hessarian have..." Dorian comments as we pass under men hanging from the gates. Their corpses stripped bare and left to rot as a warning.

The inside is bare-bones, only the essentials present. Large fire pits for cooking and warmth, a poorly constructed stables, and a lone bunkhouse that was probably packed with bedrolls. From the lack of excess barrels and supplies I assumed the reason for the mutiny had more to do with the bandits needing the Inquisition as opposed to just differing opinions.

Barely more than a dozen men stand watching attentively from the side. None make a move to stop us or draw a weapon.

"So you bear the Crest of Mercy. I wonder how the Inquisition came upon such a thing..." The leader eyes the men patiently waiting, making it clear he knew exactly what was happening. "And what does the agents of the Inquisition plan on doing with it? Have you come to challenge the Blades of Hessarian?"

"That's right. We have come to lay the pain on thy candy ass!" Tossing the necklace to his feet.

"Ah...I see. Then you know it is a one-on-one duel, do you not?"

_Oh..._

"Easy. I have this, Boss, won't even be a warm-up."

I was about to move to the side and let Bull at him when the leader's words stop me.

"No. The one who carries the Crest is the challenger. I believe that was you, little knife-ear."

A familiar heat and voice in my ear sends shivers down my spine. "There is no reason to take the chance. No promise was given, the men present would provide little difficulty to dispose of."

Before giving my answer I study the man in front of me. Tall and muscular, but not overly so. He had a hand-axe sheathed at his hip, so he would be quick no doubt. His attire was cloth and leather so at least that was in my favor; no having to find gaps between metal.

"Are there any other rules?"

"Lethallan," Solas practically hisses in my ear.

"None."

"All right. Let's rumble then."

It doesn't sit well, I can virtually feel the 'what the fuck?' looks from my companions. Now wasn't the time to explain my competitor spirit. This may be a battle to the death and I was probably being incredibly stupid, but that didn't change that at heart it was a competition and I had unwittingly issued it. If I was going to stay true to who I was, I would have to fight.

The bandit leader unholsters his axe, squaring off to face me. Reluctantly my companions move back to give us room. Pulling my daggers, I opt for a wider stance and wait for him to attack first, heart beating a furious tempo all the while.

With a bloodcurdling battle cry, he charges me and it's on.

I bend backwards at the hip, parrying the chop meant for my neck with my left as I slash out with my right. It flies wide and misses.

He steps in and I retreat to keep the distance. Another chop, this time for my bicep. My left blade flashes out to redirect it out, the right coming in for a counter. With an iron grip he grabs my wrist mid-swing, bringing me forward for a vicious head butt.

He keeps his hold as I stumble back, dazed from the blow and seeing spots. His arm winds up for another attack. Reflexively I use his hold on me to add leverage as I heel kick him squarely in the sternum, putting a little magic into it for maximum hurt.

A pained _oomph_ and crack escapes as he releases me, staggering back while holding his chest.

"F-fucking cunt. Using magic..."

"That's not nice to say about yourself." Trying hard to ignore the massive headache pounding in my skull.

Sheathing my left dagger, I throw the right as hard as I can at his bent figure, knowing it wouldn't do much but distract. And it does.

Swatting the blade away, he leaves himself open. Rushing forward, I use my momentum to wrap my legs around his right arm, resting my calves across his clavicles and pivoting to throw the both of us to the ground. Grabbing his forearm with both hands and pulling back, I lift my hips with a cruel thrust.

An audible pop and scream of pain rings out as I disengage and roll away into a crouch.

"Yield." I pant breathlessly.

"M-Maker t-take you, wh-whore..."

"Not before you."

Drawing my remaining dagger, I stalk to his flank as he remains prone in the mud. Seizing his blonde locks with one hand, I violently tug his head back to expose his neck. Slashing out to cut him from ear to ear.

Breathing hard from the exertion and adrenaline, I glare over to the bandits still watching nearby.

"This is what you wanted right?"

One man breaks from the group, the representative most like.

"Your worship. The Blades of Hessarian are yours. We will be your eyes and ears here in the Storm Coast or wherever you deem we would best serve. Our loyalty is yours."

"I don't want your loyalty, give it to the Inquisition. You're the Inquisition's, not mine."

"It is _yours_. I suppose by extension we are the Inquisition's then."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I go in search of my missing dagger. Peeking over to the others I can see that I was in for an ass chewing when we left.

_Well, poop._


	17. Chapter 17

The seven of us with the Charger's in tow tiredly ride into Skyhold, thankful to finally make it back.

"Looks like they have outdone themselves while we were away." Blackwall says with a whistle as we dismount and get our first real glimpse of what Skyhold could be.

Gone was much of the destruction and debris in the yard. Scaffolds still lined the walls but repairs to the mortar were progressing quite nicely compared to what it was before. Far fewer wounded lingered outside the makeshift medical tents. The courtyard and stables teamed with people coming and going on various errands, much more than there had been a little over two weeks ago.

Everywhere you looked, you could see evidence that Skyhold was thriving.

Groaning, I rub my aching lower back with one hand and my numb butt cheek with the other.

"I know a certain elfy snoozefest that you would love to have work that out for you." Sera says with a teasing giggle-snort, just loud enough for me to hear.

I wiggle my brows and grin at her. "Oh, that would be a waste. Maybe more like-"

"Lady Herald! It is good you are back. Come, I have some things waiting for you that you might like."

"Coming." Worn-out and not entirely sure I wanted to check out what Josephine thought would be interesting.

Leaving my horse with a stable hand, I lumber up the stairs after her. The exhaustion at least tempering down my nervousness of the steep walkway leading to the grand hall. Confused and a little suspicious, I continue forward as she bypasses servants and laborers, making for the doorway to the Inquisitor's chamber.

I was about to ask her to clarify what was going on when we emerge into the room with a brass tub filled with steaming water set off to the side. The seamstress from before stands expectantly by the bed.

"My lady." She drops into a quick curtsy, a shy smile on her face. "They are finished. I wanted to deliver them personally."

The bed is covered in clothes, the very ones I had chosen in varying dark shades to complement my pale skin and deep red hair. Even boots and a few pairs of fingerless gloves I had designed lay on the bed.

"This would have taken a huge amount of time. Thank you. Thank you very much. You did not have to rush anything." Flabbergasted by the sheer amount she had accomplished in such a short time.

"Oh no, my lady. It was nothing." Blushing and flustered by my words.

"We will leave you to your bath then. I figured after your journey you would like to relax."

"Thank you, Josephine. You're fucking awesome." Giving Josephine a beaming smile, so grateful I would have hugged her if not for how grungy I was.  

"It is nothing, Lady Lavellan." With a smile of her own and a tilt of her head, she leaves with the seamstress.

Alone, I waste no time stripping down and jumping into the tub, moaning at the pure bliss a hot bath brings. After only cold dunks in streams and lakes, an actual bath was divine. Grabbing the soap sitting on a nearby chair, I vigorously scrub down. Taking the time to wash twice to be absolutely sure I had gotten all the grime from the road off.

As I stand and reach for a towel, I cross my fingers that Josephine or Leliana had made it a priority to straighten up the public bathes near the kitchens. The bath had reminded me how much I missed indoor plumbing and I was tired of only settling for wipe downs to stay clean. I would nude it up like the best of them if it meant baths every day; bring it!

Walking over to the bed and staring down at the assortment, I can't help the girlish delight that fills me at having clothes that would actually fit. And bras! No more having to bind them to keep them under control. I knew I hadn't imagined things when I asked about them and the seamstress had looked at me like I was a lunatic for thinking there were no such things.

Most of the garments were the same thing, just in differing shades but I take a moment to run my hands over the smooth materials. I pick up some of the lighter attire since Skyhold was warm. Grinning at the thought of the looks on everyone's faces when they see me in something other than five sizes too large hand-me-downs.

Dressing quickly, I march over to the full length mirror against the wall, wanting to see the effect.

_Damn I look good!_

A confident and triumphant smirk in place as I look myself over. I knew I wasn't gorgeous or anything, but with my chin length hair behaving for once due to the bath and the outfit's contrast of colors; passively pretty at least.

Wearing a deep forest green Qunari top with extra straps wrapping around my stomach and hood added to the collar; it was certainly revealing. But no more than when I used to work-out in a sports bra. Loose black cargo pants cinched low at the waist and soft leather knee high boots give a level of modesty while allowing for easy maneuverability. Black fingerless gloves with metal knuckles and small plates on the back of the hands complete the appearance of badassery.

There's an unquestionable pep in my step as I practically skip down the stairs and weave my way past workers to get to the rotunda. I wanted Solas to be the first one to see and I couldn't wait to find out what kind of face he would make.

My feet falter for a moment before I enter the room, suddenly nervous and a little shy. I had gotten so used to feeling swamped with material that suddenly not having it there was making me self conscious.

_For the love of--just nut up and get in there!_

Squaring my shoulders and head held high, I go in.

Solas has his back to me once again, hands occupied with brush and paint. The smell of crisp soap and paint invade my senses as I quietly move to the central table. He hasn't turned at my entry even though I was sure he knew I was there. I debate how best to stand or maybe sit to show off my new digs.

Deciding a nonchalant lean would be an excellent idea, I bend back a little and place my hands on either side of me on the table. The slipping of my hand on some loose papers ruins that scheme. My body dropping down to the right sends tomes and documents alike flying.

 _"Whoops, shit!"_ Attempting to catch some before they all fall.

"Josephine has found more fitted attire for you."

Clutching the evidence of my lack of smoothness, I look up at Solas' amused expression and dancing eyes.

"It's comfortable." Putting what I caught on the table and bending down to pick up the rest to hide my embarrassment.

He enters my peripheral as he kneels to help me.

"It suits you." It's said without inflection, like he was stating a fact. His face betraying nothing as he gathers notes into a neat stack. Such a simple comment and yet it made me happy. A pleased smile surfaces as the butterflies flutter relentlessly from his proximity and voice.

We stand up together, setting our respective stacks down.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to bother you...or trash your table." Cringing a little at the jumbled mess as I gesture to the materials.

"Your company is always welcome, lethallan. Was there something you need?"

Honestly I had only thought to come to him, I hadn't gotten far enough to think up a reason.

"No. I just like being near you, plus you're easy on the eyes."

Faint red tinges his cheeks and his lips part slightly at my reply. My bluntness is clearly not what he was expecting and I can see it threw him a little. Smirking mischievously at what I perceived as a small victory, I switch the topic before he has time to shoot me down.

"It really doesn't bother you to be asked a thousand questions all the time? That's a ridiculous amount of patience."

The blush remains as Solas takes the change in subject, however his eyes hold a far softer and warmer light then before as he answers.

"I have always had a great curiosity of the world, even as a young man. It was a sea of endless possibilities and wonders to discover. By seeking knowledge I had been made to realize how much beauty it truly held. To turn away an inquisitive mind desiring understanding would be a hypocrisy in its purest form. You ask questions out of interest, not ill intent. So, if you wish to discuss anything, I would enjoy talking."  

"Those legends from before, will you tell me more?"

He tilts his head to the side as he takes a moment to think. His voice carrying a mysterious and dreamy quality as he begins his tale.

"There lived a hunter who was much revered for their skill. So great was the praise that the hunter became arrogant, boasting their talent was unparalleled. News of their boldness reached Andruil and a hunt was declared for the hunter to prove their worth. With only instructions that they simply needed to survive, Andruil sent them out into the forest. Days passed with no signs of life within the wood, confusing the hunter. Until finally a lone arrow lodged into the ground before them, the intended quarry had been the hunter all along."  

"She's the Goddess of the Hunt right? The one who went into the Void to find bigger prey." Getting a little excited. Andruil was the elven version of the Roman's Artemis, a god I had thought quite fascinating to read about.

"Yes. Each time Andruil returned from the Void, she descended deeper and deeper into madness. Not even the steps she had previously taken could assuage it. Fearing what Andruil was becoming, Mythal set a trap to strike her down. After three days and nights of fierce battle, Mythal stole her knowledge of how to find the Void; thus ensuring peace returned."

"Considering all the stories with them fighting amongst themselves, that probably wasn't long."

"Perhaps not." Solas comments with a sardonic twist of his lips.

"And none would call them out on their greed?" Leaning a hip on the table to appear indifferent.

"Some did. Their cries were either quickly silenced or branded treacherous. Mythal became the voice of reason, a beacon of justice and fairness among the pantheon."

"That must have been dangerous, being the level-headed one and surrounded by power hungry douche bags."

"There are stories of a guardian who was a constant companion for many years."

I choose not to push it further, believing if I showed too much interest it would send up warning flags. Instead, I decide to push him in a different way. I close the few feet separating us, running a hand along the table as I do.

"She was lucky to have someone who would brave the risk with her. I envy that."

"I believe you have a fortress full of such individuals. Do you doubt their sincerity?"

My gaze slides from his as I answer truthfully, unable to hide the touch of sadness and bitterness from my tone.

"No, I do not. But that is for the 'Herald'." I look up again, seeing understanding and compassion in his eyes. "It is not for me."

This wasn't the direction I had thought my offhand comment would take. I had meant it to be flirty and instead it was hitting on a sore subject.

"You do not give us enough credit, lethallan. Look at the souls you have gathered. Do you believe those men and women would fight alongside just anyone? Corypheus is a threat, that does not mean the only way to defeat him is to stay by you. The Inquisition merely offers the best hope of doing so."

"So if I was a giant asshole you wouldn't fight with me?" Grinning to alleviate the mood and knowing the answer to that but wanting to steer this discussion to lighter ground.

"I would find it vexing, and likely only fight for the good of the mission. I doubt I would find your company as pleasing as I do now."

"Hmm...my company is pleasing is it?" Raising a brow and smiling fully now.

"It is easy on the eyes."

Delighted laughter springs forth at having my own words thrown back at me. Shifting closer, I lean in until there's the barest graze of my chest against his. I gaze up at his lips, wanting more than anything to trace their fullness with a gentle caress. Instead I settle for just looking, leaving the decision in his hands. Slowly I meet his eyes, taking the time to appreciate the sprinkling of freckles as I do.

I had no problem being the pursuer in flirtations and romance, but with Solas I wanted him to be the one to make the initial move. Maybe it was because I hoped to prove I was different from the Inquisitor, that he had desired me enough that he would be the aggressor. However the longer I spent with him the harder it became not to act according to my instincts.

The smoldering heat in Solas' expression can't hide the inner debate I can see being waged within him. A seductive smirk flitters over my face as my eyes issue a silent challenge at his struggle.

His eyes narrow and a countering dare sparks as he self confidently grins.

It's a seductive battle of wills of who would break first.

And apparently it was going to be me.

I give in to my impulses and lay my hand along his jaw, ghosting my thumb over his bottom lip. Tracing the full softness. Gone is Solas' grin at my touch, intent and desire replacing it as his hands grip my hips to pull me flush against him. They slide along my bare skin to my back as he bends to capture my lips, feeling like they are burning a sizzling trail as they do.

"Herald, everyone is to--"

I had felt the faintest hint of his lips before Solas jerks back at the interruption.

"You gotta be kidding me!" Throwing my hands in the air.

"Forgive me, my lady! I did not mean to disturb you. The Lady Seeker and other advisors have requested that everyone gather in the courtyard at once."

"Do not trouble yourself. We will be along shortly." Solas tells the nervous servant before turning to me with a highly amused expression. "Shall we?" The heat of moments ago carefully hidden behind his mask.

With a frustrated huff I walk beside him to the courtyard, careful to remain in the direct center of the steep steps down.

Dear Lord, if such a slight touch from Solas had felt that electric, I was doomed. Or more accurately he was. I didn't have enough self control not to find the nearest flat surface and climb that man like a tree. And what about if we had been in the Fade?

_Oh man, and that's just what it felt like in the waking world...I'm so screwed..._


	18. Chapter 18

It looked as though the whole of Skyhold's populace was in attendance as Solas and I stand with the others. Cassandra and the advisors were suspiciously absent even though they had been the ones to call the assembly. Rampant speculation and theories buzzed throughout the courtyard as we waited. I remain silent and uninterested in the discussions around me, knowing what this whole announcement was probably about.

We're not kept waiting long as all four exit the grand hall and make their way down the stairs. Leliana carries a large bastard sword in hand and halts at the first platform overlooking the yard, the others continue their descent and disappear from view before reemerging to take the last set of steps to join the crowd.

When Cassandra disengages from Cullen and Josephine to come to me, I can't help the paranoia that fills me at her approach.

"Herald, if you have a moment?"

_Ah, fuck._

Reluctantly I allow Cassandra to lead me back up the stairs as she begins to try to ease me into what I know is coming.

I only half listen to her explanation of what the Inquisition could accomplish and how it had a new purpose thanks to Corypheus. Even though I knew where this was going, I held out hope that I was just being crazy.

I had no interest or desire to be the Inquisitor. It was not the thought of leading and responsibility that bothered me so greatly; far from it. Taking charge was a simple matter for me, it was comfortable to be in a leadership role. No, it was what the Inquisitor represented and what they were that had me rebelling.

For good or ill, the Inquisitor was a symbol and an icon. Their life was not supposed to be their own. It was to be for justice, order, and for the people. They were the Inquisitor, they lost everything else when they took up that mantle. That level of dedication and selflessness was something I did not have and never wanted to have. I refused to change to fit a role, to put the happiness of unknown faces before my own.

Cassandra stops before we make it to the platform where Leliana patiently waits, turning at last to me.

"This Inquisition needs a leader. A leader who has already been leading it. We need _you_."    

"No."

I can see my quick response has bewildered Cassandra but she presses on, misinterpreting the reason for my refusal.

"You will not be alone, we will help you. We have discussed this at length while you were away, you're the only one who could guide us. The people already flock to the hope the Inquisition represents, what the _Herald_ represents. They would not follow just anyone, it must be you."

"Cassandra, you-the Inquisition, they need someone who gives a shit! They need an Inquisitor who would put their needs above their own. I will not do that. I don't care for people like you do, I never have. I'm not selfless, I'm not caring, I won't put duty and responsibility before anything else. You are wrong if you think otherwise. Cassandra, name yourself or someone else as Inquisitor. Not me."

"Even if that is true, that does not change our choice. You actions healed the sky and saved many people during the attack on Haven. They have also allowed for the survivors to make it to this place, a place where the Inquisition can prosper. I believe this was meant to be, that there would be no Inquisition without you. What the future brings, how you lead us; this will be up to you. Regardless of the outcome, we will follow."

"I don't want it. I'm telling you the good of all won't win over the good of the few I care about. Do you honestly want someone like that in power?"

"There can be no faith without doubt. Your choices have gotten us this far."

A reluctant sigh escapes as my shoulders droop in defeat at her unwavering conviction.

"You're sure I can't change your minds?"

"We stand firm in our decision."

I only shake my head and trudge up the remaining steps to Leliana. She extends the sword to me in offering. I'm not sure what it's made out of but it must have been something incredibly light since it was as big as me and she was hefting it like it was nothing.

I had newfound respect and fear for Leliana as I hesitantly grip the handle with both hands, using all my strength to try to lift it before giving up and just setting the tip to the stone.

I stare out at the sea of faces below, people who I had never met and yet they looked to me like I was their hope, their answer to a better everything. My eyes travel over them before I raise my voice to be heard by all, unwilling to fall into the cage of Inquisitor.

"I won't fight for you! I won't fight for Thedas! I will fight for myself! And you, will you fight for another's ideals? Their justice? Those things won't keep you alive, won't stay the hand of death. They won't wield the blade to protect or shield you from danger. Someone else's spirit can't help you to stand when you have nothing left! Fight for yourselves, fight for your own justice!!"

Roars of approvals and cheers ring out in a deafening crescendo as men and women take up the cry. Hearing and seeing only what they wanted to believe.

_What the hell is wrong with these people?_

I'm flabbergasted by the sheer foolhardiness and fanaticism of the masses, only the inner circle seems to understand what I was trying to convey as I gaze down at them. While their expressions are varying, there is one that creates a nervous twist in my gut.

The look of disappointment is like a knife as I meet Solas' eyes. With a shake of his head he turns away and leaves the crowd without a backwards glance.

I wanted to follow him, ask him what he was thinking. Using both hands to hoist the sword to sit on my shoulder to take the weight; I pivot to descend the stairs, intending to track Solas down.

"Wait. There's some important matters we need to discuss. Let us talk in the hall. Cullen and Josephine should be up in a minute."

I search the courtyard one last time for a glimpse of him before I regretfully amble up the steps after Leliana. The spymaster only hesitates long enough to give the others time to gather round before she launches into matters.

"That strange future you witnessed at Redcliffe, Empress Celene had been assassinated and a demon army had been raised. Together, Josephine and I have come up with a possible scenario and countermeasure."

"Currently the Empire is in the middle of a civil war. As far as we have been able to gather, there are three parties vying for power. Celene is desperately trying to hold the throne while her cousin, Duke Gaspard, seeks to overthrow her by force."

"My sources tell me the third interested party is leading a group of elves to sabotage both armies, drawing out the hostilities."

"Celene has decided to hold peace talks under the auspices of a grand masquerade in the hopes it will serve as neutral ground. Every noble and person wielding influence will be there, it is the perfect place for an assassin to hide."

"This ball creates the ideal opportunity for a killer to dispose of multiple targets and slip away unnoticed. Orlais is the authority that holds Tevinter at bay, if the Empire was to fall due to a power vacuum, then all of Thedas would fall to Corypheus."

"Alright, well how long do we have until the ball?" Trying to tick off the things that still needed doing in my head before the final show down with Corypheus and the ensuing shit-storm.

"Roughly three months. I am working with the Lady Vivienne on getting the Inquisition an invitation."

Cullen had remained quiet during Leliana's and Josephine's exchange, but spoke up now, bringing up their other unmentioned concern.

"And what of his demon army? Are we any closer to figuring out where or when it gathers? Who is on the throne won't matter if we're overrun by hordes of abominations."

"We may have an answer to that soon. Varric has been in touch with someone he says could help in that regard. Though if it is who I think it is, you're not going to like it, Cassandra."

"Who are you referring, Leliana? Is this person someone we should be suspicious of?"

Leliana slides her gaze from Cassandra, a secretive smile playing on her lips. "No. I suppose we shall just have to wait and see when they arrive in a few days."

_The Inquisition is full of spies from two different factions and you don't know for certain that it's Hawk, only an educated guess. Leliana you must be slipping..._

Cullen releases a frustrated breath at the news. "So we wait then."

"Yes. Until then we build our influence, gain more allies. There is not much we can do as we are now."

"There is one thing." Josephine interjects. "With the growing number of threats and potential for harm, I believed it would be in your best interest Inquisitor to have a teacher. They have been vetted and are highly skilled. If you would like, I can introduce them to you."

There was only one skill that I desperately wanted to learn and if one of these trainers knew it, then they were my man.

"Sweet! Lead on, Josephine. Unless there is something else we need to get done?" Looking around at the others to check.

"No. Other matters are ones that we can handle, we will bring anything of note to you."

"Cullen, would you take this? It's stupid heavy." Handing the bastard sword to Cullen, I wasn't about to lug the thing around all day. "Then after you, milady." I say with a giddy smile to Josephine.

~

"There." Josephine points to three individuals who had set themselves apart from everyone in the improvised training yard.

The two humans didn't seem as though they were all there, with the male having an almost vacant look on his face that I could see even from the stairs. The third instructor, an elven woman, appeared more together and distanced herself a little from the other two.

Leaving Josephine at the steps, I trot to the trio. Three pairs of eyes notice my approach and move to stand at the ready. I halt just before them and ask the only question I had.

"I was told that you came to train the Inquisitor. Thank you for taking the time to come. There's one thing I want. Fade Step. Do any of you know it?"

The man, the necromancer if I remembered correctly; just remains staring blankly as if he is looking through me at something that only he can see. Trainer as the other woman was called, says nothing and simply squints at the air next to me.

"I do." The unknown elven mage states, her tone holding confidence and authority as she addresses me.

"Then you're it."

"Hold, Inquisitor. I was summoned to oversee your training as a Knight-Enchanter if that was your wish. It is a rank, it is a life. If you have no such desire, then it is not for you."

_Huh-Ho! Score!_

There was a nifty ability within the Knight-Enchanter specialization that would compliment my style and actually make my life easier. Plus it was the only one that did not appear to require a delicate touch, a talent I most definitely did not have. However Fade Step was a much more important skill for me to master at this time and anything else could come later. Being more of a bonus if I got to that point but not necessary.

"I am very interested in it, but I want to be competent in Fade Step before I move on to something else. Those two complement each other, do they not? I see no reason why this would be a deal breaker then."

"That is all I needed to hear. _You_ decided you are worthy. It will not be easy and we shall see what heights you reach recruit. My name is Commander Helaine. 'Commander' will suffice. We begin your training now."

"I would have it no other way." Completely ready to put everything into learning Fade Step. Though I would have to taper down my apprehension of using my magic.

Ever since my chitchat with Flemythal I had been reluctant to cast anything, using it as sparingly as I could to keep from doing anymore damage. I didn't know how long souls needed to heal and wasn't about to risk making it worse. From my tentative and veiled inquiries into mana burn and imbalance, I was still unable to determine the difference between normal mana burn and taking a magical cheese grater to my soul.

I would just have to trust that my instructor would call it quits before I went too far.

Commander Helaine, or 'Commander' as I was to call her, took the time to show me the ability before explaining the mechanics behind it. I did not miss the mysterious scattering and emptying of the training yard when soldiers noticed I was about to start lessons on new magic.

_Geez, I wasn't that bad...maybe._

Commander stands aside to allow me to try my hand at it, disregarding the sudden area clearing and expectant audience.

_Invisible magic carries me forward and I blur ahead...let magic carry me...carry me..._

Collecting a small amount of energy at my back, I release it outwards, 'throwing' it at myself to propel me forward.

There's a thunderous _voomp_ as it feels like my back is shield bashed by a giant. My face skids hard on the ground before the force and momentum flip me over to roll until I land upside down against the far wall. I attempt to shift my legs from the wall and rotate into a sitting position but the pain is instantaneous and breathing is agonizing.

The slight effort to move sends me into a coughing fit that feels like I had glass in my lungs. Blood fills my mouth and throat as I do, adding to the difficulty of breathing.

"Stay still, don't try to move. You have internal injuries and broke many of your ribs." Commander's calm voice comes from above me. Soothing magic rushes to my torso and face, mending the damage.

Gradually the hurt lessens and I can turn enough to cough and spit up blood.

"So...not right?" I jokingly wheeze when it was easier to breath.

"No, it was not recruit. You will try again." That was never in doubt. As long as there was someone to heal me, I would continue this all day until I was told to stop.

Gingerly I twist to sit up and get to my feet. I wait for Commander to get clear before I try again, this time going for a 'shove' as opposed to a 'throw'.

 _Voomp_!

Clouds of dust mark my trail as I spin across the yard, flopping hard onto my stomach when I finally come to a halt. More blood and coughing ensues until once again magic washes over me.

Echoing _ooh'_ s and _oww_ 's come from the direction of the spectators as the dirt settles and I stagger up again.

"You are pushing _it_. You are not letting it to push _you_. Again!"

It becomes a repetitive cycle. I try letting magic 'carry' me, my face becomes a surfboard, and Commander heals it. The day is long and draining, requiring all the determination I can muster to keep taking the pain. It is Commander who runs low on mana first and finally calls it quits for the day.

"The first day is always the hardest, recruit. You did well. Tomorrow we meet outside the gates, more room and softer ground."

"Tomorrow then, Commander." My body was covered in grass stains, blood, and dirt as I lumber up the steps to the keep. I wanted to bathe and then pass out and never wake up.

The door to the rotunda is open as I pass and I change direction to go inside. Sleep could wait a few minutes. The smell of books and paint fill the air when I enter but there is no Solas. I even trot up the stairs to the library to check if he was reading. I was disappointed at being unable to speak with him, but there was not much I could do about it. I would just have to wait until tomorrow and hope I caught him.

Many curious glances and some that were frankly horrified; follow me as I make my way to the Inquisitor's chamber. I was dead tired when I got there and unwilling to make the trek back down to the public baths; which may or may not even be functional yet. The tub and water from this morning was still there so I stripped and jumped in. Tomorrow I would be better prepared and take a change of clothes so I could go straight to the baths.

I barely take the time to dry off before I collapse onto the bed, not bothering to dress. If someone barged in, well they would get a show I guess. The plush warmth of the covers quickly lulls me to sleep, the worries and harshness of the day slipping away as I descend into slumber.

~

Tingling sensations over my skin nudge my brain to wakefulness. I open my eyes and rise from the bed, my mind slow to grasp what was happening.

The Fade. I had made it back into the Fade.

Still naked, I wrap the covers around me and go in search for the reason I was here.

Skyhold is gorgeous to behold as I make my way through passageways and the grand hall to the rotunda. Everything gleamed and there was a sense of timelessness that pervaded the air. I feel a twinge of regret and pity for the loss of such beauty, somehow knowing that this was from a time before the Veil.

 _"Solas?"_ I call when I enter the rotunda, unsure how I knew that he was the reason I was here again.

As it had been in the waking world, there is only emptiness.

_"Solas?!"_

"Inquisitor."

I spin at the sound of his voice, taking in the aloofness of his expression. It was a face he had never shown me before.

Suddenly it became very important to me that he called me by my name. Not Lavellan or by some unwanted title given to me by others, but _my_ name.

_"Please don't call me Inquisitor, Solas. Call me anything else, but never that. To you I will never be the Inquisitor, I will always just be Akira."_

I wasn't sure what my 'name' was supposed to be here since no one ever used it, and the few times I had tried to trick someone into calling me it, it had ended with them using 'Lavellan' instead. Even if it wasn't supposed to be my name here, I could dismiss it as a childhood nickname.

"I was simply addressing you as your status entails."

 _"Have I done something to anger you, Solas?"_ I wasn't about to pussy foot around and this cold politeness he was doing was not going to fly.

"Anger? No. I am merely disappointed. It seems I was mistaken about you."

_"Is it because I was named Inquisitor or about what I said?"_

"I believed you cared for the people around you, the people under you. That you wished to make this world better. Your actions led me to believe this was the case. Instead you care only for yourself and power. Look at the lengths you would go to get it, breaking your body repeatedly." The bite and hint of disgust in his voice has me speechless for a moment.

It felt like I had been punched in the gut. The pain that comes with his words and tone hurt more than anything I had endured in this world.

_"Should I have lied? Should I have said I cared for everything and everyone? I'm not going to lie and say I will put duty before my own happiness. I told Cassandra I would not be a good choice for that very reason! Guess what? They didn't give a shit! And I may not give a fuck about people in general, but I do care about my friends and those I love! I never said otherwise. Never have I lied or mislead in that regard. Everything I have done was to make my teammates happy or for the end goal."_

The more I speak, the angrier I get. My notorious temper flaring and I can't stop the words from flowing.

_"Do you think I like pain?! That I welcome it?! I enjoy working hard, from getting so exhausted I can barely stand. From accomplishing something difficult and knowing I got there because I didn't give up. What I did today was because that was the only way to learn. If I don't do it, I become a burden. If I don't do it, I die. There is going to be someone out there stronger and I might not be able to survive it, but it won't be because I didn't try or put everything I had into it! If someone's going to kill me, I will make them fucking work for it!"_

Throughout my impassioned speech, I can see Solas has realized his mistake. The mask slipping and his expression returning to one that I had become familiar with. The regret and desire to apologize there for me to see. But I don't stop, too enraged and my judgment too clouded by the added intensity of the Fade.

_"You say I don't care, but at least I'm not a hypocrite. You're so stuck in the past you are ignoring what's right in front of your face! Ancient elves; fuck-any elves for that matter, are not superior to anyone else in this world. Qunari, dwarves, humans; they hold as much worth as elves. Every race does fucked up shit, none are exempt from it! They can also do things that are goddamn marvelous! By your refusal to see the equality of every race and not just ancient elves, you're no better than the Tevinter Magisters you hate so much."_

I'm shaking from anger when I finish.

Tightly held control is etched into Solas' features as his jaw tenses, eyes glaring as they meet mine. Both of us say nothing as we stare at each other for long moments.

Slowly my breathes calm and so does my temper as I realize just how much I had said. I had gone too far and I wanted to start over, tell him I was sorry.

"By your leave, Inquisitor."

With an incline of his head, Solas disappears like he was never there.

Once again I am left alone. Regret my only company.


	19. Chapter 19

I sit up with a start, fully awake. There was no weariness or sleep addled grogginess; just complete focus as I untangle myself from the sheets and rush to dress. Taking only enough time to gather extra clothes and my trench coat before dashing out of the room.

The emotions I experienced in the Fade still rode me hard, causing a small nudge of worry and uncertainty at the lingering intensity. Hurt and sadness at what Solas thought of me, at being on the receiving end of his indifference. Remorse at the way I had lashed out in anger and frustration at him.

My determination to seek him out doesn't waver when the rotunda turns up vacant, the library becoming my next destination.

At first glance it appeared the library was going to be a dead end as well. And I was on the verge of leaving to find a servant to ask for his whereabouts when the rustle of pages draws my attention to a far corner. Hesitantly I peek around the shelves and there he is, thumbing through an old text with green engravings on the cover.

My presence does not go unseen. His head tilting to the side as he silently observes my approach and waits for me to state my reason for coming to him. His polite demeanor telling me that though he would treat me with utmost courtesy, he had not forgotten the insults thrown at him.

"Solas, I'm sorry. I did not mean to say those things or have them come out that way."

"Ah."

A perplexed frown forms from his reply. "Ah?"

"The Fade amplifies and fuels emotional responses. I do not fault your anger, Inquisitor, I had misjudge the situation and unjustly berated you for it. For that, I apologize."

"Alright...but it feels like you would love nothing more than to toss me over the railing."

"So your perceptive gaze falls on me, delving into my most inner thoughts. Only...not. The musings of a hypocritical Magister remains his own." His scathing sarcasm starts to raise my own ire but I hold it in knowing I deserved some scorn for my heated comments.

"I'm sorry, it was uncalled for and I should not have said it."

"Do not equivocate. You're repentant over the choice of speech, not their meaning. You do us both a disservice by suggesting otherwise."

He was right and I was unapologetic about letting him know ancient elves weren't the be-all end-all. But the disapproval bordering on disdain that is being hammered at me hits harder than I cared to admit coming from him.

"I'm sorry."

It's all I can get out before I spin on my heel and retreat out of the library, vision blurry from suppressed tears.

I clench my jaw to keep them from falling, unwilling to cry over a man. I was angry and hurt at the same time over his attitude, unable to decide which was stronger at the moment.

It was startling to realize just how much his words and actions could sway me and how deeply I cared what he thought. It was something that I was not happy about recognizing; being so invested in another's feelings, especially a nonexistent person's.

I hurriedly make for the outer gates, wanting to do something; anything, to get my mind off the disastrous turn of events. I needed to hit something. Badly. I needed mind-numbing exhaustion.

When I arrive outside, Commander Helaine wasn't the only one waiting.

"Come to watch the flailing?" I teasingly ask our new addition. Making the effort to sound normal and push everything else from my thoughts. To focus on something I could actually do something about.

"She has stated her intent to learn the way of a Knight Enchanter, recruit."       

"The application of such talents are boundless. Who better to master and see that their benefits are not squandered then me, my dear?"

"Indeed." I reply dryly.

_Guess this explains how the others get their new abilities._

And if that was correct, then Dorian was probably having fun training with Mr. Only-Interested-in-Your-Flesh.  

"The weight and density of the blade can be altered at will. As malleable or rigid as your mind desires. The size of the blade is a manifestation of the mage's magical capability. However it is not always a reflection of how much power the weapon holds. It will take commitment to harmonize the two." I listen with rapt attentiveness as Commander goes through the paces of creating a spirit blade, finding it seemed quite similar to how I materialized energy spears. Though I had no doubt it would prove to be a much more complex process than it sounded.  

Vivienne's skill and aptitude for magic was unmistakable as I watched her progress throughout the day. The blade was little more than a short sword and did not hold its shape for long, but Commander was impressed by the degree of development she was able to accomplish in just a single day.

"Before we end the lesson, I want you to give me a Spirit Blade, recruit." Commander calls from beside Vivienne, her tone saying it wasn't up for debate.

With a grunt I roll to my side and tiredly get to my feet; having lost count of how many times I had flown across the snow today.

"Don't worry if you fail, darling. Not everyone is lucky enough to be blessed with talent and intelligence such as I."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence, Vivienne." Shaking my head with a snort.

"Always happy to help the less fortunate."

My stance widens as I square off and form a sword in my mind, willing it to manifest in my hands. I was physically and mentally bushed from the day, and thus didn't fully concentrate as I should have.

A claymore taller than me and wider than my torso materializes, dazzling hues of blue in the blade and amazingly solid in appearance even though it was translucent. However the weapon is extraordinarily heavy and the blade starts to drop almost immediately as I struggle with the weight.

"NO!! DON'T LET IT-!"

Commander's alarmed shout is cut off as the claymore touches the snow and all sound seems to be swallowed into a vacuum. Blazing white light piercing our eyes as a deafening explosion of magic swells outwards, ripping and shredding the air and everything in its path.

There's a moment of incredulity as I feel my skin start to burn and break, unable to comprehend what is happening. Then brilliant green engulfs my body, filling my vision. The sensation of being pulled, consumed, and falling encompassing me. I don't even have time to react before its suddenly over.

I'm frozen in place as I stare in dazed disbelief for a few minutes; steam wafting off my body from the near escape of my magic. The stunned disbelief quickly starts to morph into confused fear as it clicks together that I had almost killed myself and only the intervention of the anchor had saved me.

I had been transported into the Fade. There was no mistaking it for anything else.

If floating land in the sky and all the different tints of green didn't give it away, it would have been the overwhelming feeling of magic saturating the air. There was so much, I was sure that if I closed my eyes, I could probably 'see' it. As it was, it felt like someone had blown a shit ton of bubbles over my body and I was being bombarded with them, only instead of soapy water it was magic.

At least the emotional onslaught was manageable, having been to the Fade in dreams. Though this was slightly more intense than that and made my teeth tingle.  

Even though I had never been to the Fade physically before and had nothing to compare it to, I _knew_ there was something wrong with it. Maybe it was the Veil being up or maybe it had something to do with the Blight being present in the Fade; but it felt like it was ill, like it was struggling.

I file the thought away for later examination. There wasn't anything I could do about it at the moment, stuck as I was.

Lifting my left hand; I study it for a second, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now. No answer is forthcoming as the anchor continues to thrum and buzz fiercely.

"You only need to reverse it." A voice from behind says.

I whirl around at the noise, not expecting for there to be anyone else here.

"Why would you be alone?" The spirit asks, it's transparent head tilting in bafflement.

"Well, generally people don't traipse around the Fade anymore and spirits usually ignore people, or so I was told." Choosing to answer it and trying to keep an open mind.

"No..such fear now."

When it just quietly hangs its head and seems content to hover in front of me, I venture to see if it would help me.

"You said I needed to reverse it. Reverse what?"

"Slip through the Veil again. Reverse what you did to come here; do the opposite." The spirit states, appearing confused as to why I didn't understand.

"Ah..."

 _Oh, stupid me. Just do the opposite!_ I think mockingly.

"You should do it quickly. There are more coming, not all have good intentions. You shine so brightly...they are drawn to it. Such heat and radiance..." Seemingly lost and getting unfocused as it looked at me.

_They? What they? Does it mean spirits?_

Whatever 'they' were, the spirit didn't have to tell me twice. If it said get the fuck out, that's exactly what I was going to do.

"Thank you." I tell the spirit with genuine sincerity.

I close my eyes and try to think of all the instances I had sealed a rift. Bringing the memories and sensations to the forefront of my mind. If my assumption was correct on what the spirit was trying to tell me, then theoretically I just needed to do the reverse of what it felt like to close one.

More luminous bodies drift into the clearing as I attempt to make a small rift for me to slip through. The agitated vibrating of the anchor telling me I was on the right track.

As the familiar glow of green starts to flare and expand, I hear the spirit call to me once again. Tone sounding almost hopeful.

"Can I talk with you again?"

_I wonder if it's lonely. There aren't a lot of mages or dreamers who interact with them anymore._

It makes me think of Cole and his happiness of having someone accept him; at calling him friend.

"Anytime. You don't have to ask." I say with a smile, the glow surrounding me and pulling me through before I can hear if there is a reply from the spirit.

The jarring disconnect of blinking back into the waking world is disorienting and I shake my head hard in an attempt to clear it.

Its pandemonium when I get my first glimpse of the devastation my magic caused. I stand in a still smoldering crater a hundred feet across with wrinkles and folds of disrupted snow outlining it for dozens of feet in all directions. Handfuls of mages and soldiers frantically scramble to figure out what has happened and offer aid.

Everything comes to a screeching halt when I reappear. Relief and astonishment replacing the panic in the air.

"You're alive! I believed for certain you had died in the blast. Thank the maker you escaped. Are you injured badly?" Commander states as she disengages from a group of worried onlookers. Her magic quick to slide over me, mending my small hurts.

From Commander's appearance, she had not escaped unscathed either. Her armor was dented in places and she looked like she had taken a nasty tumble.

"Burns and some cuts, nothing major. Where is Vivienne? Is she alright?"

"Fine, my dear. Nothing a little magic can't cure. It would take much more than that to bother me." Vivienne's self assured voice calls from nearby.

I turn to get a look at her to be sure. Many of the inner circle stand beside her, having come to investigate the commotion, and sure enough she seemed perfectly fine. A little rumpled looking, but no worse for wear.

"You escaped into the Fade."

"More like sucked in, but sure, let's go with that. Makes it sound like I did it on purpose."

Keeping my tone light in response to Solas' wonder filled statement. I hadn't forgotten his jerk-face attitude this morning, but I wasn't going to let it bleed over and give everyone a show.

Solas' expression takes on a dreamy and far-away look as he crosses his arms and brings a finger to his lips in thought.

"Remarkable...and you were able to slip back through the Veil...That is fascinating." He looks up at me with excitement as his mind comes to some sort of idea. "Do you think you could replicate the experience?"  

Shocked sputtering and laughter fills the quiet area when my snowball hits its mark. Furious, I spin on my heel and march away to gather my things as Solas wipes the snow from his face.

_Such an ass!_

 

~

 

The public baths were blessedly deserted as I wash away the sweat and blood. My trepidation over the events of the day slowly dissolving along with the soap.

I had worked hard today, pushing my body and magic as far as I could. Even with the huge expenditure of energy at the end and the coming and going from the Fade, I wasn't feeling the negative effects of mana burn. It gave me hope that maybe it was an indication I was getting stronger.

_...or maybe you cheese gratered yourself again and are just not feeling it yet..._

_ARGH! Shut up brain! Don't poop on my parade._

However much I didn't want to think about it, the nagging concern kept drifting into my thoughts.

I wasn't certain what had happened to make the spirit blade so volatile or how I had accomplished what I did, but something didn't fit. Every other instance of potent magic had laid me out or there had been some other crappy consequence. This time. Nothing.

It felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and it wasn't putting me in a particularly happy mood.

I make a raspberry noise when it continues to bother me.

_Well, no use crying about it now. It's already done and there's no point to stress about it more. I'll just deal with it when it comes._

Resolutely I towel off and dress, determined to do just that. Action and stubbornly plowing forward was more my style than worrying and standing still. After I good night's sleep, I would start fresh and press on. If the events of today resulted in anything, then I would face it. There was no other choice in my mind.

I could handle it. No, I _would_ handle it.

 

~

 

There are unknown eyes on me, staring intently.

My own snap open at the feeling and I roll off the bed in a tangled mess of sheets to awkwardly land in a fighting stance.

_"You'll never take me alive!"_

"I do not understand. Am I to attack?"

I blink owlishly before my mind comprehends whats going on. I laugh when I realize where I am and who is before me. Their translucent head tilting in bewilderment at my response to their presence.

_"No. It was just my lizard brain jumping to conclusions. I thought you were an assassin or something."_

"I am not here to harm. You said I may come again. You are easier to find without the wolf hiding you." The spirit pauses for a moment, I can almost imagine it furrowing its brows in thought. "That may not be a good thing. There are many who would be drawn to your light."

 _"The light of the Anchor?"_ Wondering how spirits in the Fade saw me. Cole had been cryptic and some of my other questions he had been unable to answer, being relatively young in spirit terms.

"The mark adds its own brilliance to yours, adds familiarity to the unknown. Though it is not enough to overshadow it. The blaze is brighter than any flame and it will lure unfathomable darkness."

_Oh joy..._

"You do not like it? You wish to change it?"

_"I would not change me, no. It is the whole, doom loves you because of your glowing prettiness that's worrisome."_

"It brings great interest but has it not helped as well? I do not understand."

 _"Helped?"_ Now _I_ didn't understand. Spirits found me super cool apparently, but other than this one and Cole, I hadn't interacted with any. So what exactly has my bright business done?

_Goddamn it, it better not mean that shit's been happening that I'm not aware of._

"Magic. Your mind does not perceive the Veil and ignores it. Just as spirits are attracted to you, so is magic. It is inquisitive and desires to feel you."

 _"Oh...huh."_ That..actually explained quite a bit. Not sure how I should take the 'wants to touch you' thing but whatever. It wasn't that having a real soul made me powerful here, it was that everything seemed to like it. _"So that's why you wanted to talk with me?"_

"It is alluring, but you also do not fear me. You let me come close, let me converse with you."

_Wow, that's...really sad._

_"Well I don't know how interesting I'll be but it's cool if you want to come see me. What do I call you?"_ I had been trying to figure out what type of spirit it was and I wasn't about to randomly name it for fear I would twist it somehow.

The spirit's shoulders and head droop at my question, its tone mournful.

"I have forgotten. It has been so long since anyone spoke to me or remembered who I was."

Pity surfaces at the revelation. It would have had to be a long time indeed for a spirit to no longer remember what it was.

_This wouldn't have happened if people didn't turn such a blind eye to the Fade. How many spirits are like this now?_

_"If I give you a name, will that hurt you in any way?"_

"You wish to place a name on me?" Suddenly it sounds enthusiastic and wistful, its body straightening. "There is no malice in your thoughts, it will not corrupt."

_"Larry it is then! I dub thee Larry until we can find your name again."_

Maybe Cole could help. I would make it a point to ask if he could tell what kind of spirit Larry was.

"Larry...Larry..."

The spirit, or 'Larry', repeats the name; rolling it over their tongue, testing it. After a few minutes of mulling it over and echoing the name again, Larry nods firmly as if decided. It's body brighter as it looks to me.

"Thank you, _da'elgara_."

_"Da'elgara?"_

"Little sun. You have given me a name, I thought you should have one as well."

 _"That...that is actually very pretty. Thank you, Larry."_ Touched by the small gift the spirit had given me.

"I have seen and learned much in my existence. I will try to remember, _da'elgara_. You have questions, I see them. If I can continue to come, I will share what I can."

_"No, Larry. You don't have to do that in order to speak with me. If you want to tell me that's fucking awesome; I'm not going to lie. However it's not required. You've been alone for awhile and I won't use that against you. Talk with me about whatever you want."_

Another head tilt that I was beginning to think was its habit as Larry studies me.

"I will try to remember." Firm and resolute as it reiterates its intent. "Goodbye, _da'elgara_."

Puzzlement over the sudden farewell washes over me. Then Larry's body and the scene around me start to bleed and fade, my consciousness reaching for wakefulness. Marking the end of my time in the Fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Da'elgara: (Elven) Lit. Little Sun


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY!

"Got a minute?"

I pause on the stairs at the query, twisting my body to look behind.

"What's up, Varric? Needing someone to brush your impressive chest hair?"

Varric releases a short chuckle as he moves to stand with me outside the great hall. "That friend I told you about, they're finally here. It might cause a ruckus if they parade around so they're up on the battlements if you have the time to speak with them."

"I'm early today so I've got time. Lead on, my Word Wizard!"

"I have a feeling I'm going to regret this..." Heaving a sigh as he guides me to the ramparts.

A tall, well armored man leans on the stone wall overlooking the practice yard as we descend the stairs to his platform. His raven black head shifting to face us at our approach, brilliant crystal blue eyes following our movements.  

"Inquisitor, meet Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall."

Hawke turns fully now, crossing his arms and propping a hip on the wall. "Though it has been awhile since I used that title. Another one people like to use is, 'Get the Hell Out of Here'."

Without missing a beat, Varric continues. Obviously used to ignoring whatever comes out of his friend's mouth. "Hawke, the Inquisitor. I figured you might have some friendly advice about Corypheus. You and I did fight him after all."

" _My_ advice? Everyone knows about Kirkwall right? If not, they must live under a rock--or in the Deep Roads. _My_ advice has a tendency to end in imprisonment, death, and the occasional Chantry explosion."

Hawke's candor has me laughing and thinking that I might actually like his company. "Did you see the big ass hole outside and the fucked up training yard? Things going boom fits right in."

"Sounds like home then." Straightening with a grin. "We fought and killed Corypheus. And yes, he was dead, I poked him with a stick and everything to be sure. Grey Wardens had been holding him in a prison but he somehow used his connection to the darkspawn to influence them."

"Corypheus got into their heads. Messed with their minds. Turned them against one another." Varric adds.

"If your Wardens have disappeared, they could be under his control. Again. I have a friend within the ranks, his name is Alistair. When last we spoke, he was worried there may be corruption within the Order. "

"Corypheus would certainly qualify as a corruption within. Did Alistair disappear with the Wardens?"

"No. He was going into hiding from them. Said something about an old smuggler's cave near Crestwood Village. I suggest we start there."

"Then it looks like we're going on a road trip."

"Good. Because I don't like when things I kill come back to keep giving."

I chuckle at Hawke's view of Corypheus. "I think we're going to get along just fine."

"I knew it was a bad idea to put you two in the same vicinity." A put-upon sigh and shake of his head as Varric looks to the both of us. "The things I do for the greater good..."

~

"Cole! My beautiful little angel. I have a question for you." After searching most of the tavern, I had finally located him in the storage area attempting to lead ants away from the cheese.

"Floating, drifting, lost in a desolate wasteland. No one comes, no one calls. What has happened?"

"Cole?"

"It is happy now. _You_ made it happy. You gave the spirit a name again."

"Can you sense what Larry is? Nothing I come up with really fits."

"No...it has been forgotten. When I reach, there are only tangles and webs of what was. I do not know how to help. I'm sorry." Cole's shoulders droop in defeat, his hat bowing to hide his face, as if it was somehow his fault for not knowing how to fix it.

I tilt my head and bend so I can see his eyes, smiling reassuringly at him. "It's alright, Cole. You didn't do anything wrong. It just means it will take a little more thought and time to figure things out."

"I will keep trying."

"Thank you, my little angel cake. Having any luck with that?" Gesturing to the trail of ants.

"They only split when I put something down."

"Maybe block their path and put food where the colony is?"

"Yes. If it's closer, they won't have to risk being stepped on."

 _So pure! I just want to squish his face._ "Right on, Cole. Right on." Exiting the room and allowing Cole to do his thing.

After the conversation with Hawke, plans for departing to Crestwood had been quickly put underway. The members of the inner circle notified by either myself or Varric, which had led to an angry outburst from Cassandra when she was told. It was clear the next few days were going to be quite awkward as tempers settled.

However, my concern now was to focus on Fade Step. I had two days until we left and I wanted to get as much practice in as I could.

And it seemed I was not the only one with that intention as I made my way over to Commander's waiting form.

"Recruit Vivienne has informed me of your coming departure. You are not ready to lead from the front as you are. The Veil is thin here at Skyhold, we are able to last longer and push our magic farther. We shall take advantage of this. I will drive you both twice as hard starting now. Ready yourselves!"

"Do try not to destroy the landscape, my dear. It's dreadful enough as it is without your help." Vivienne drolly comments when I take my place.

"No promises!"

"Enough! Focus the both of you!" Ordering us both to silence.

True to her word, Commander had us outside practicing well into the evening. Only dismissing us when she ran out of Lyrium potions.

It felt like I had dragged my body at a snail's pace to the baths when I finally sank into the warmth. Letting the soothing heat relax my tired muscles. I lean back and rest my head against the edge, allowing myself a brief rest and enjoying the luxury while I still could.

"You are leaving?"

 _"HOLY SHIT!"_ Bolting upright and splashing water everywhere at the sound. I spin around to stare at Larry's vapory form. _"What are you doing here? Wait, don't answer that, dumb question. You scared the crap out of me. I think I died a little..."_

Larry only tilt's a transparent head and continues to observe me, waiting for my answer. The sensation of water lapping at my hips reminds me I'm still in the bath. And naked.

 _"AH~!"_ Crossing my arms and promptly crouching down in the water. I can feel the heat rising on my face but the state of my nudity doesn't seem to faze Larry at all. Clearing my throat, I endeavor to ignore the awkwardness and answer. _"There is stupidity afoot with the Grey Wardens and we-the Inquisition-get to go uncover it. So I won't be around Skyhold for awhile."_

"You know what will transpire, why follow it?"

_"If you can see that, then you already know the answer right?"_

Larry pauses a moment, probably delving into my thoughts to get a full picture before responding. "Yes. There is great fear. My aid would help, but you don't want to push. Many pieces are missing, _da'elgara_ , though I will try. Ask, it will not harm if I give permission."

I consider carefully what I should pose to Larry, wishing the spirit had more defined features so I could gauge its mood and reactions. In the end, I throw out something I would not be able to cleverly hide or allude to in a discussion with Solas.

_"Titans. Do you remember anything about them?"_

"Rage, despair, hatred. Pain, so much pain. It hurts!" Ghostly hands clutch their head as though experiencing it themselves. The words spewing forth coming faster now. "It fights the song, pushing it away. Must save the children. They cannot fight it, must get them away. Madness consumes them...Screams, so many screams...The madness, feed the stone your screams..."

 _"Larry! Larry! Stop! It's alright, you don't have to think about it!"_ Standing quickly and sloshing through the water to place a hand on an ethereal shoulder. Trying to bring Larry back to the present. _"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. If I'd known it would be like that I wouldn't have asked."_

I eye Larry with worry as the spirit calms, praying I didn't just hurt it.

"Old. It is a very old knowledge. What you want is long forgotten. Very few remember now."

 _"And you would just give this to me? Why?"_ Wasn't there some sort of bartering system for this kind of information or gag order to make everything during Elvhenan's height of power a cosmic mystery?

"You gave me a name, a purpose. Just as the one before did. What I have is yours, just as it was theirs, _da'elgara_."

_Wait. Say what now?_

I stand with Larry, wide-eyed and reeling from the implications of his revelation. There was a possibility that my mind was jumping the gun, but if it wasn't, then Larry was made by someone from the real world. And apparently it happened a really, _really_ , long time ago.

_"You remember what you are?"_

"No. It is lost." Bringing Larry's mood down again.

_"I asked my friend Cole about you. He's a spirit of Compassion. He said he will help to find what you are, Larry. You will be remembered, I promise."_

Larry's mouth moves to reply but I can't hear the words. My brow furrowing as I concentrate to catch something when I'm suddenly viciously ripped from the Fade.

Vivienne hovers above me, shaking my shoulders to jostle me awake.

"You fell asleep in the bath, my dear. The day has been long, finish up and get to bed." Tone almost motherly as she steps from the water and moves to her things.

Wiping a pruney, wet hand down my face, I follow her advice. Pondering the ramifications of the factual bombshells all the while.

~

The days leading to our departure for Crestwood passed in a blur. Before I knew it, our merry band of eleven was on the road and Skyhold was a distant spec on the horizon. Luckily by then, Commander's intensive training had gotten me to the point I was only suffering bruises and soreness instead of broken bones and organ ruptures. Thus allowing me to continue to practice even on the road.

I came to realize quickly that even if my mind didn't perceive or care about the Veil, having it thin did make a difference on how fast magic gathered to me. It surprised me and felt a little disjointed the first time I attempted to Fade Step outside the boundary of Skyhold. Taking me longer to concentrate and not being able to perform as many tries as I could at the castle. The second I felt weary in any way, I called it quits, not about to risk a soul shredding for the sake of practice.

Tonight was the first on our journey and so far everyone appeared to be getting along. Other than the glowers and glares between Cassandra and Varric, the mood was rather light.

Feeling the beginnings of fatigue, I halt my Fade Step practice and amble over to the lounging group where Varric and Hawke are regaling the team with stories of Kirkwall and their adventures. With a groaned hiss I slowly lower my aching body to sit next to Cole and finish my half eaten dinner.

The atmosphere is one of easy camaraderie and hilarity as some of Hawke's more memorable moments get told. Even Solas finds amusement in the tales as my eyes wander over to his relaxed form. I noticed he was staying close instead of separating himself from the others as he was wont to do.

 _He's quite pretty when he smiles. He actually has really lusciously kissable lips too...And those mesmerizing eyes..._ I idly muse, letting my gaze roam over him.

Even with the heavier vested coat he wore, it did nothing to hide the well defined muscles of his legs. And boy did I appreciate that.

 _For an elf, his thighs are glorious. What I wouldn't give to caress them or get a handful of that wonderfully beefy ass..._ Internally I sigh dreamily at the thought. _I would sidle up to him and place a hand on his knee. Feel the tensing of his muscles as I slowly ran my hand up his inner thigh and move my way--_

"-hand sliding seductively. Fingers barely graze; a tease. Muscles tense from the anticipation. He knows where my hand seeks, so easy to _mmmph-_ " Hurriedly cutting off Cole's damning words with bread being stuffed in his mouth.

Peak levels of red flush my face as silence descends in the camp. It doesn't last longer than a few seconds before roars of laughter and jokes fly my way.

"Inquisitor! You must be thinking of me, I'm flattered. I know this devilishly handsome face can melt even the most frigid of maidens. Isn't that right, Madame Vivienne?"

"I would sooner melt for a pustulous troll."

"That hurts, Vivienne. That's hurtful." Mock sadness in Hawke's eyes. "Are you still angry I took your virginity? It won't happen again." More hoots and snorts come from everyone at Vivienne's look of murderous intent directed at Hawke.

"Boss, if you need a man, I'm sure we would have no trouble finding you one."

Chuckle-snorting at the thought of Bull playing matchmaker, "I think my lack of allure already shot that horse in the face."

"Ah, I don't know. Your quite pretty, Boss...as long as you're quiet. We just need to keep you silent long enough to get things done. A little wham bam thank you ma'am and everyone's happy."

Tears come to my eyes as I laugh so hard it hurts to breathe at Bull's scenario. Great enjoyment at the situation and the night in general fills me as the tips and jokes continue to be called by all. Almost like it had become a challenge to come up with the most ridiculous thing.

Things start to settle down after Hawke brings the topic back around to Cole and his knack for voicing people's thoughts.

"So Cole...you're a spirit? Not a body with possession or dual sharing. And you're the embodiment of Compassion, right? You just say whatever comes to someone's mind...that's going to take some getting used to. Having my awesome musings relayed to the world..."

"If it bothers you, I suggest thinking of naughty things. It usually does the trick to keep him out. Me and Sera have it down pat." Sharing an air fist bump with Sera across the campsite. "This," tapping my temple, "lives in perpetual gutter town. It makes an Antivan whorehouse look tame."

"There are so many...what, how does it bend that way..." At Cole's baffled mumble, I wink and air pistol him, unapologetic.

"I would hate to see what you come up with. You're going to scar the poor kid." Varric jokes at Hawke.

"Don't be jealous, Varric, I can draw you pictures if you like. Then it can feel like we're sharing the same thoughts."

"No! I want to stay firmly mystified at whatever pops into your head. It's much saner that way. Plus your artistic ability is on par with your storytelling, which is to say horrendous."

"What?!" Mock astonishment and affront as he points to his own chest, "I weave tales that could make the Maker weep."

"Oh, I don't doubt that." Varric chuckles.

"Let us see then shall we? Our merry company can judge."

"Nghha haha. This should be good." I hear Sera giggle from across the way.

"Hmm...what to tell...what to tell..." Tapping a finger on his lips as Hawke muses. Eyes gliding over everyone before falling on me. "Maybe something for the Inquisitor? Your Dalish aren't you?" I raise a brow at that question. "So a story about the Gods then." More finger tapping as he nods his head, seemingly come to a decision on what direction to take. "Tis a tale of trickery and mystery! A tale of Fen'Harel!"

A short choked laugh bursts from my mouth at the reveal before I clap a hand over my lips to keep it in. My gaze dropping to my lap to get myself under control and not look at a certain someone.

"Something the matter with my choice, Inquisitor? I haven't even begun yet!"

"N-no." The words coming out stuttered as I try to suppress my mirth. I clear my throat and look at Hawke. "Nope, nothing."

"Your tightly pressed lips and the twitching at the corners of your mouth say otherwise."

"I suppose it's the irony. You pegged me so well. Out of all the Pantheon you choose the only one I actually like." Keeping my eyes firmly planted on Hawke as I say it. Though it was so tempting to just sneak a peek at a certain someone's face during the exchange.

"Ah, have a thing for bad boys do you? I can be bad too you know."

I say nothing, just smile widely at Hawke as I cross my arms and bring my knuckles to rest on my chin. Waiting for him to begin his story.

"Our tale takes place in a time long ago, a time of innocence and harmony. However it was not to last. Cries and shouts of denial rang throughout the kingdom as a thief appeared to break the peace. Before each heist a single card was left on the intended victim's doorstep. It did not matter what the people did, the thief always got their bounty...Eating dinner? Poof! At a party? Bam! Their underthings was gone! Replaced with a tight little loin-clothe..." A loud scoff off to my right has me fighting to stay focused on Hawke. Massively enjoying where this was going. "No knew how the thief was able to accomplish such a feat! Finally the Gods got involved, for even some of them had been panty switched. Vowing vengeance and justice, they set a trap for the culprit, using the most glorious pair of underthings in existence as bait. Unable to resist, the thief sent his calling card and later tried to steal the panties. To his regret, they were enchanted, the underthings would port to the head of whomever tried to steal them. It was with this trap that Fen'Harel was found to be the elusive panty thief! And when the Gods finally made him talk, it was to find that he used the panties to make a magnificent frilly bed in which to sleep on."

"Wait, he slept on worn undergarments? At least tell us he washed them first!" Dorian's aghast voice cuts through the hoots and howls of mirth.

"Stealing small clothes only to replace them, that does not sound even remotely plausible."

At Solas' comment I chance a glance. The look of harried displeasure on his face causes me to throw my head back and clutch my belly as I laugh even harder.

"Hawke, maybe you should leave the storytelling to me."

"That was a perfectly crafted tale. Admit it, Varric, you're impressed."

"Uh...it was something, my friend."

"It was fucking terrible. I loved it!" I get out when I can finally breathe.

"Ho-ho! Terrible was it? Then by all means, let's hear one from the illustrious Inquisitor." Giant smug grin on Hawke's face.

"Challenging me, eh? Alrighty then, game on!"

Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back and cross my arms. Taking a moment to think of what to say. With a mischievous smirk and deciding I would get a little revenge, I look back at Hawke.

"Since you chose Fen'Harel, why not stick with him?"

_Don't look...don't look...just stay on Hawke._

"Fen'Harel is considered the Trickster God, but I bet you haven't heard some of the more colorful Dalish tales. He was supposedly quite the playboy and exhibitionist. Frequent skinny dipping with young virgin priestesses...naked masquerades..." There's a strangled choke that suspiciously sounded like it came from Solas' direction, spurring me on. "Fen'Harel didn't discriminate though. Oh no, his tastes ran from young to the questionably ancient! Bedding anything that moved." _Must. Keep. Straight. Face..._ "His insatiable lust caused such a disruption within the Empire that the other Gods attempted to imprison him so that the populace could have a break. However it was not to be, for Fen'Harel was wily and he would not be denied! All endeavors to contain him ended in failure and the Gods could only sit back and watch as the poor citizens fell victim to his seduction."

"HA! Alright that may have been better. Touché, Inquisitor, you win this round!" Hawke guffaws amid the mass of laughter.

"That wasn't half bad there, Glow Bait. Truly inspired. Like the subject matter, huh?" Varric asks with a teasing grin.

My own smile is face splitting as I answer, proud that I haven't cracked yet. "I do have quite the crush on Fen'Harel, I admit. But with my luck, I'm pretty sure if I was to ever meet him it would be disappointing. Probably some greatly winkled old man, so rickety that if he so much as sneezed his hips would snap. His penis so small that it might as well be nonexistent. Who knows? Maybe he's so hairy that even if he was well endowed, it can't be found through all that hair..."

"A figure that inspires such stories would be pleasing to the eye at the very least. And elves do not grow body hair as you well know." Solas chimes in somewhat defensively, cheeks tinged a nice shade of red.

"Hmm...going to keep my skepticism and say he's ancient. I'd bet money that getting frisky would dislocate his hip or maybe throw his back out."

"The Elven Pantheon was considered immortal. It would require more than amorous activities to cause injury."

_Hehe. Definitely defensive._

I smile sweetly at Solas, resting my chin in my hand. "Perhaps. No way of knowing though, is there?"

"As you say." The blush still present but fainter now. His gaze holding a hint of a predator's light.

I sit back, feeling immeasurably thrilled with myself as the conversation around me continues on.

_I think this would be my win this round, Dread Wolf._


	21. Chapter 21

_"Ooomph!"_

"AHAHA! Maybe don't use your face as a cushion!" Sera jovially calls from the campfire.

 _"Owww..."_ I roll over to flop on my back, rubbing my nose.

"You alright, Inquisitor?" I give a thumbs up at Blackwall's query, letting them know I was fine.

The frosty snow covered mountains had given way to sprawling hills and fields as we drew closer to Crestwood Village to everyone's delight. I hadn't been the only one who hated the cold and to be in much warmer climates was welcome. Unfortunately it meant dirt and grass instead of soft pillowy snow to land on.

To my frustration it appeared as though I had hit a wall in my practice. I was stuck at throwing and shoving myself as opposed to letting the magic 'carry' me forward. No matter what I tried, it just wasn't clicking in my mind.

Exhaustion was beginning to set in, alerting me that it would be smart to stop soon.

With some groans and hisses from the incredible soreness, I turn over to get to my elbows and knees. Slowly I gracelessly climb to my feet, determined to go one more time before halting for the night. I can see my teammates yards away going about building their tents or chatting amongst each other.  

Hands on my knees, I take deep breaths and ready myself for another highly probable wipe-out. Movement from the edge of my vision has me shifting my gaze to an outcropping of nearby trees. Still bent over, I peer into the shadowed woods, searching for any sign of life. When long minutes pass with nothing, I chalk it up to overactive imagination and instead concentrate on the task at hand.

Shaking my hands and shoulders out, I expel a lungful of air and allow my magic to throw me forward. At the instant I release it, the movement from before comes again. There's no time to comprehend it's meaning when searing pain rips into my right thigh, bringing me down with a scream and hard skid across the ground.

I clutch my leg and look down at the arrow protruding from it, breathing fast and deep from the pain. The electric tingle over my skin as multiple barriers surround me only ramps up my stunned confusion. War cries bring my attention back to the woods and the Red Templars spilling from it to descend upon me.

Dampening fields slam down, engulfing the area in an attempt to shatter the barriers.

I struggle to get up, to get to the others, but the slightest movement causes the arrow to tear into muscle and I scream again at the sensation.

Arrows bounce off my protection and I can do nothing as they do. The enemies are rapidly closing in, preparing to attack all at once, and the shields will fall when they do. My companions are still too far, I can see they won't make it in time even as they charge headlong to get to me.

A choked sob escapes due to the pain and hopeless fear coursing through me.

When the first hit touches the barrier above me; I don't think, I don't focus. My only thought is safety and wanting to get to it.

Magic seizes me in its grip, lifting and dragging my injured body away from danger. Before I even realize it, arms are enfolding me in warmth and protection.  

"I have you, Akira, hold on."

Solas clutches me to him and uses his body as a shield as he moves me farther from the fray. The team and the templars come together in a brutal clash of steel and magic behind us. Shouts of anger and pain mixing to create a deadly symphony.

I half-lay, half-sit between Solas' legs as he hunkers down, keeping one arm over my shoulders as the other goes to my injured thigh.

He needs only a moment to assess the arrow and it's placement before looking into my eyes.

"Steady yourself." It's the only warning Solas gives as his attention returns to my leg and long fingers curl around the arrow's shaft.  

My left hand seizes a handful of his tunic in a death grip while the right moves to grasp his shoulder. I bury my face in his neck, using his scent to keep me calm as I clench my jaw so hard I fear I might break teeth in preparation for the pain.    

When the arrow is viciously jerked free, I can't help the loud intake of breath and full body jolt at the feeling of flesh tearing. The hand on my shoulder squeezes in response, then there's a wash of soothing heat as Solas' magic slides over my body.

Gradually the throbbing and hurt lessens enough that I can take sick pleasure in the situation.

It was my first time being shot, and yeah it sucked major ballsack, but I had to admit, it might have been worth it. Just as the wound was about to be fully mended, I take advantage of our positions and lightly run my nose against the underside of his jaw before I reluctantly pull away.

The skirmish was still underway and even in my drained state, I needed to help. Without glancing at Solas to see how my advance was received, I dash to join the battle, aiming to get into the thick of it.

Back turned to my approach and too busy dodging Bull's great axe, the nearest Red Templar is easy prey.

"Incoming delivery for you, Bull!" Picking up speed at the end, I jump to land a drop-kick in the center of the Knight's back.

He stumbles forward at the surprise attack and right into Bull's fatal swing. Gurgled gasps of disbelief escape him as the Knight drops to his knees and Bull uses a foot to dislodge his axe from the templar's chest. There's the sound of wet suction and scrapping of metal on armor as the weapon is yanked free.  

A templar tries to take advantage of my downed form, thrusting to impale me to the ground. I rotate to avoid the blow, sweeping out with a leg as I do. With a jarring thud he falls to the grass. Wasting no time, I leap to straddle his torso and pummel his face in, thankful that I had kept my plated gloves on.

Three solid punches is all it takes before the man slips into unconsciousness, offering no more resistance. Hopping to my feet, I scan the scene, prepared to keep going.

There is only one more Red Templar left standing and he was surrounded by Cassandra and Cole. The man was so focused on evading Cole's swift strikes, he never saw Cassandra come from behind. With surgical precision, she slashes the back of his unprotected knees, felling him. No longer standing and having left himself wide open, Cole dashes in and makes quick work of smoothly slitting his throat.

It's a strained moment as everyone inspects each other and the now bloody clearing. As one, there's a loosening of tension when nothing moves and the injuries appear minimal.

"It's only been a few days and this is what happens? Stuff comes at you guys often I take it? All right! This is going to be a fun trip!"

Varric's stressed sigh at Hawke's glee has the desired effect. Bringing back a sense of normalcy and calm as the team absorbs the easy friendship of the two.

~

"RARGH!" Sitting up Indian style and crossing my arms in annoyance.

We had been on the road for four days, Crestwood was but another half day ride and this was the last night I could safely practice before we got there. The area was reported to be active with both templars and bandits, not to mention the undead I knew would be there thanks to the rift. I had hoped that I could use Fade Step during the coming fights but that wasn't looking likely.

"You did it yesterday, Inky. Maybe you just don't have the right incentive...Maybe you need a little elf lovin'. 'Oh, Solas save me!'." Loud lip smacking and kissing noises carrying over to my position.

The stiff set of my shoulders goes away as they droop and I shake my head, chuckling at her imitation of me. I stop and tilt my head to the side when an idea comes to mind. I twist around to look at Solas with narrowed eyes, considering.

"It was fortunate the spell worked, even under such dire circumstances. I happened to be the closest at the time, it could have been anyone. There is no reason to create discomfort just to provide yourself entertainment, Sera." Censure in his tone as Solas looks to the woman in question.  

"If you need some lovin' to help you along, Inquisitor, my arms are open. Come! Come to me!" Hawke states dramatically, throwing his arms wide open in invitation.

All eyes fall to me with interest when I stand and face the camp; some in surprise, believing I was going to take Hawke up on his offer. Solas was one of those few or at least he was up until the point I locked eyes with him.

His expression is one of stunned confusion when my body slams into his, sending us both to the grass in a tangle of limbs. Completely relaxed, I prop myself up on his chest and look down to study Solas' face.

"Huh."    

"What-" Hoots and catcalls come from behind us, cutting him off.

I sit up, straddling his hips. "Mind if I use your body?" The widening of his eyes and flabbergasted look has me smirking like a lunatic. Slowly I stand and offer a hand to help him up. He's quick to recover as he takes it with a questioning quirk of his brow. I don't relinquish my hold as I pull him away from the campsite amid jokes and jabs about how I can best 'use' Solas.

Placing him a safe distance from the others, I trot away to put some space between us. Reaching what I estimated was the general length I had covered before, I whirl around and grin wolfishly when I see Solas patiently waiting. His eyes narrow suspiciously as I launch my magic without warning or conscious thought.

Strong arms catch me when I knock into him with enough force to spin us around and cause Solas to take stumbling steps to keep us upright.

"Hehe, too much?" Goofily smiling and lingering longer than necessary to release him as we steady ourselves.

"Perhaps a slight deviation is in order." He agrees as his arms fall.

We both ignore the continued banter coming from our teammates as I jog away, though some did have me laughing at the sheer ridiculousness. My favorites being Fade head and having Solas delve into my 'Elven ruins'.

Establishing my distance once again, I let the desire to join Solas influence my magic and give myself freely over to it. The impact of my collision with his body has him staggering back but we remain standing at least.

"The use of exuberant amounts of magical energy wouldn't be a ploy to manhandle me would it, _lethallan_?" Voice mischievous but seductive as he releases me.

"Me? Never..." Grinning at being caught.          

_Guilty._

It's wiped clean when a thought occurs. "Am I hurting you? I'm kinda plowing into you."

Solas chuckle-snorts at my concern, tone teasing in his reply. "No. Though if you were built as Cassandra, I doubt I would hold up so well."

"Good." My smile returning. "And if I wanted to manhandle you, I would do something like this." Giving his butt a solid rap that earns me a startled jolt and a crack in his confident swagger at the unexpected daring. I pivot around quickly to hide the reddening flush of my cheeks, praying its under control by the time I'm far enough away to Fade Step again. The renewed whistles and catcalls doesn't help matters as the impromptu pawing had been done in full view of the entire camp.

I can still feel the warmth radiating from my face as I turn back at my starting point. Magic embraces me and begins to pull me when I hear a call for my attention.

"Your Worship! I finally found you guys!"

I disperse the magic with a stuttered halt, hopping forward and arms wind-milling in an attempt to avoid crashing face first into the grass. Soothing magic cushions me as I begin to keel over, gently pushing me upright.

"Come to hang with the cool kids, Harding?" Swiping the hair from my face and offering her a welcoming handshake.         

"Unfortunately no. I thought you might want a heads up on the situation in Crestwood before you arrived. There were some surprises when we got there, and not the good kind. Ten years ago the original village was affected by the Blight and submerged under water. A giant rift has opened at the site and corpses are ambling out of the lake like nugs on cheese."

"Oh, well that sounds lovely. A trip never feels right without rotting bodies joining the party."

"Hold on to that cheer, Inquisitor, you're going to need it. There's been a constant rainstorm thanks to that rift, adding to the general doom and gloom of the place."

"You mean I get to roll in the mud _and_ play with decaying things? YAY!"

"I'm not sure that is something to celebrate, Inquisitor." Cassandra comments as everyone gathers around.

"I believe that was sarcasm, Seeker."

"Was it, Varric? Forgive me, I have had trouble understanding motivations and intent lately." Barely veiled scorn directed at Varric.

My eyebrows raise and I suck in my lips as I wait for the likely verbal fight to commence as they glare at each other.

"Uh...My report has been delivered so I'm going to return to the forward camp." Harding loudly states as she makes a hasty exit.

I follow Harding's cue and sidle back from the two, not wanting to get in the middle of it or have any part whatsoever. The others have the same idea as they wordlessly edge away, all except Hawke that is. The quiet, angrily hissed words are thankfully muffled the further we get from the trio. None look back as we make our way to the campfire, wishing to allow them some measure of privacy.

I quicken my steps to catch up to Solas, tugging on a sleeve to get his attention as I whisper loud enough that only he could hear. "Find me in the Fade."

Beautiful grey-blue eyes snap to mine at the request, searching. With a last challenging look, I separate myself and move to settle in for the night.

~

I sit, chin in my hands as I wait for Solas to join me. It had felt like hours but there was no way to accurately judge time while in the Fade. Everything was so fluid and intangible that it was easy to get lost in thoughts and memories here.

Fleetingly I pondered how Larry was faring. Tonight was the first since our meeting that I had not talked with the spirit. Nevertheless, one day being apart shouldn't hurt and I desperately wanted to show Solas what Larry had taught me.

"It appears you have been busy, your presence was difficult to find." Sauntering to stand before me.

 _"I haven't done anything that I'm aware of."_ Frowning at the thought.

"Then there is a powerful spirit hiding you, though why one would go to such lengths is curious. They do not often interact with mortals." Perplexed furrow marring his brow.

_"Is that why I haven't seen you?"_

"No." Looking somewhat sheepish, Solas clears his throat before continuing. "In truth I do not know what to make of you. Most people are predicable, yet you continue to go against everything I expected."

I chuckle when I consider what he would deem predicable behavior. _Oh, yes. I bet he has no idea what the hell is up with the weird little gremlin._

_"People do regard me as odd, I'll give you that. It's driving you nuts huh?"_

"I am not often thrown by another's actions. It's..." Solas sighs as he stops himself. Intense probing eyes meet mine, searching for an answer-an explanation, on why I was so confounding to him. "Have you always been this way? Where you like this before the Anchor? Has it changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, your...spirit?"

 _"Have I always been clumsy, selfish, pigheaded, and an overall smartass? Sorry, but yes. If anything, the Anchor is kinda wasted on me. A justice loving badass would have been a better choice."_ Chin still in my hands, I smile up at him as I gleefully crush his dreams of the anchor being the key to solving my peculiarity.

A smirk plays across his lips at my response. "You are certainly many things, _lethallan_." The humor fades from his gaze as he studies me, "Justice can just as easily cloud one's judgment and lead down the path to corruption. As it stands, the anchor is in worthy hands. If a spirit such as yours can be raised among the Dalish...have I perhaps misjudged them?"

I can't help the unladylike snort at that question. _"I can say with full assurance that the Dalish had no part in this shenanigans."_ Gesturing to all of myself.

"Your astute in knowing your own merits. Although the Dalish, in their particular fashion, may have still guided you."

I don't argue the point, knowing too much denial would wave some serious flags. Instead I wanted to get to the reason for asking him to meet me.

_"Solas, I have a gift for you. Hopefully you'll like it."_

Standing, I lightly run my fingers down his palm to hold his fingers in a loose grip. Other than surprise and curiosity, Solas reveals nothing on his thoughts of my touch. Believing the Fade to be my playground, I close my eyes and will what I wanted in my mind to be reflected.

Grassy hills and sparse trees as far as the eye can see disappear in a flash, only to be replaced more gradually with my present to Solas.

We stand on a small wooden bridge with red fringe in the middle of a sparkling clear lake. Cherry blossoms in full bloom completely surround the water in radiant hues of pink, obscuring everything else in their splendor. The vibrant petals lazily drift to fall into the still waters all around us, the only color in an otherwise pristine crystal blue.

His sharp intake of breath and the minuscule squeeze of his hand around mine tell me it worked. I open my eyes to look at him and he's all I can see as his face brightens with delight. So enchanted and happy did I become by his expression that my focus on keeping the image slipped, its brilliance fading significantly before I snapped my eyes closed to pull it back.

_"Sorry. Still learning."_

"Thank you, Akira." Voice low and seductively whispered close to my ear. I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin and the warm press of his body as he leaned close.

Goosebumps and shivers race over me at the proximity but I stay on course, wanting to let him enjoy the simplistic beauty of my world. He had taken care of me and was a source of solidarity in this new world, I wanted to give him something in return. So if I had to get my hormones under control for a night, then so be it. I would be the goddamn ice queen.

_Willpower...willpower..._

Repeating it over and over like a mantra.


	22. Chapter 22

The descent into Crestwood's large valley had brought nothing but steady rainfall. Harding was right about it enhancing the dreariness of the place. Everywhere you looked; which wasn't very far thanks to the heavy sheet of rain; it was dark. The lush deep green in the trees and grass? Gloomy. The shades of grey covering the sky above? Gloomy.

"The Veil...she is waterlogged here." Sera mocks with a deepening of her voice while pretending to study the air around her.

"Crestwood blows." Hawke's grumbled complaint drifts from somewhere off to my left.

"We haven't even gotten to the walking corpses yet." I joke with a runny sniffle.

"Put your cloak on, your making me cold just looking at you. All sniffles and red nose."

"BAH!" Dismissing his concern over my lack of coverage. It was just rain and only slightly chilly, plus it would only weigh me down more to wear a sopping wet coat.

Cresting a hill; the landscape to our right gives way to a murky lake with a giant glowing haze in the center of it. Acting almost like an eerie beacon in the choppy waters far from shore.

Torches protectively covered farther down the ridge mark the Inquisition's forward operating camp and with a nudge to our tired mounts, we set a course straight for it.

A small figure huddled in some type of sleek animal skin trots to meet us when we arrive. "Inquisitor, agents, it's good to see you. As you can see, I wasn't kidding when I mentioned the rift. Unfortunately it looks like the dead are increasing and particularly hankering for the village."

"We will leave the horses here then and someone can bring them once we clear a path to the town. Is there anyone that can be spared to come with us?" Dismounting from my steed, the others following suit.

"Myself and two others can, the creatures haven't taken much interest in us so our absence shouldn't matter."

"Good." I turn to squint at my companions through the rain, "Everyone ready to hoof it?"

Halfhearted affirmatives answer me as weapons and bare essentials are gathered from packs, gearing up for the damp trek through the valley on foot. 

The pace is brisk but unhurried as we set off down the cobbled road, our muscles gradually losing the aching soreness from being in a saddle for long hours. The splash of our footfalls and weighty patter of rain the only discernible sounds in an otherwise uncannily still countryside. There had been enough battles that even I could feel that something was off about the place, senses on high alert to catch any signs of trouble.

The path suddenly inclines steeply, obscuring the route ahead and taking us out of sight of the lake. I get a jogging start to get up the hill, the balls of my feet digging in to gain purchase and push me upwards. At the top, the scenery opens up, the tall grassy mounds flattening to short meadows. Providing slightly more visibility before being swallowed by mist.

Silhouettes waver at the edge of the watery curtain, their allegiance impossible to distinguish from this distance. Confident strides draw me closer, a pestering unease settling in when the vague shapes become more distinct. The warped limbs making it apparent what we had stumbled upon.

Their backs were turned, something else having captured their attention; however there's an unmistakable whistle as an arrow zips dangerously close, barely missing my bicep by inches.

Instinctively I duck down and pivot to look behind to check if anyone had been hit.

There's a horrified exclamation as Dorian spreads his coat and stares down at the glaring hole left by the stray arrow.

"This was custom tailored in Antiva! Someone's going to pay for ruining such craftsmanship!"

Cassandra and Blackwall rush to take point, shields raised protectively as they crouch-walk forward. Barriers drop down to surround us all in an added layer of defense as we press on. More arrows pinging off us while the corpses still have their flanks exposed indicates we were in the middle of crossfire, though with who was uncertain.

Dazzling magic and precisely aimed wood sail past our shoulders to pierce, burn, and shred the undead. Mowing them down in rapid succession as their bodies jolt and spin from the unexpected barrage. 

"Hold! Someone's come! Stay your arrows!" A voice orders from farther ahead.

Men in full chainmail step from behind stone pillars, the silver griffon embroidered on royal blue tunics marking them to be Grey Wardens. Slowly they lower their bows, eyes taking in our diverse group before recognition flares in their gazes.

"You're the Inquisition! The Grey Wardens thank you for your aid." He turns then to look behind, "You can come out now, it's safe."

A young elven woman ducks out of hiding, expression one of hero worship and gratitude. "Thank you, thank you so much."

"It was nothing. Best get home while the way is clear, it's too dangerous to be wandering around." The Warden warns, gently nudging her to leave with a nod of his head and a hand on her shoulder.

She is obviously reluctant to comply but the stern set of the man's features gets her moving. With one last lingering glance, the maiden flees, presumably to get home before more undead arrive.

He watches her depart, only facing us once again when she disappears from view. "We came upon the woman being attacked by the walking dead and jumped to her rescue. Instances such as hers are a common occurrence here. If we could, we would gladly stay to protect the village. However duty and orders prohibit it. If you can, perhaps the Inquisition would see about helping these poor souls. The village has already lost so many..."

"Is the Inquisition some sort of savior of the world? 'Help us from ourselves! Save us from completely random things!' Blah, blah, blah..." Hawke scoffs with a snort as he steps to my side.

A short burst of laughter escapes before I stop myself and smile up at Hawke. "Oh my god, you're my penis wielding doppelganger... "

"I am sure we will see what can be done." Cassandra intercedes with a raised brow at me.

"Yeah, we'll take care of it. Wouldn't want there to be riots in the streets when the Inquisition decides that people should nut up and handle their own shit..." I flippantly say.

"...Thank you? And Andraste watch over you." Seemingly unable to decide whether to take us seriously or not. With a regal bow, the Grey Wardens leave us. The bewilderment on what to make of us evident on their faces.

Hawke and I share an amused look, finding humor in the situation. With a sigh, I take the lead once again, heading in the direction of the village.

"Let's go spank some undead and save a village!"

~

They were not fooling around when they said the village was turning into a hot spot for the dead.

 _"Ballsack..."_ I mumble when I get my first glimpse of the front gates of Crestwood Village.

Fiery pyres of corpses clustered the small dirt clearing in front of the town in an effort to prevent disease and ensure that the dead remained that way. The smell of oil and fat wafting through the air signifies how they were able to keep the flames burning even with the downpour. Arrows, spears, and swords rest skewered in rotten and fresh bodies alike, the owners either dead or unable to retrieve them before more creatures descended.

Dozens of possessed corpses shuffle through puddles and mud in an attempt to breach the village defenses. Archers line the wall above, lighting arrows doused in oil and haphazardly shooting as soon as they draw back the bowstring. Only a handful of warriors; or at least anyone who could wield a weapon, form a loose semi-circle before the gates, providing a defensive blockade.

Internally I cross my fingers that I wasn't about to feel what it was like to be shot by friendlies as our group rushes to grant support. It's an equal splitting of forces when those in the back of the cadaver swarm jerkily halt to focus on us instead. Even though the bodies were decaying and their movements were disjointed, they still moved astonishingly fast.

There's a moment of breathless stillness then a thunderous coming together as my group joins the fray, effectively sandwiching the undead between us and the townspeople.

A shambler reaches out to tackle me, its hands curled like claws. I step into the attack, grabbing its extended forearm and intending to throw it to the ground. The skin sloughs off, my hand sliding down with a fistful of rotting flesh.

 _"Eeehhhwww!"_ I cringe disgustedly as I use my other arm to elbow it in the face instead. "Why are they so gooey?!"

It falls to the ground and I use as much force as I can to stomp its head. My left forearm blocks the downward swipe of another and I heel kick its sternum to fell it. Others that were converging on me jolt to a stop when Fade energy slams into their face and bolts lodge into necks, sending them crashing to the mud with a splash.

Hopping over the fallen bodies, I use the momentum to rotate into a full roundhouse strike. A corpse goes down face first at the impact. Following through the kick, a second shambler lands nearby after a backwards roundhouse to its ribs.

It's physically draining as I kick and punch a path to the gates, grunts and curses trailing me as the others cleave their way to follow.

I bodily wrap my arms around an undead's torso and press my hips to theirs as leverage to throw them down. With a creepy hiss it lands behind me. There's a shambler who turns at the noise, it's interest switched to me. Clenching my fist, I advance into its space and wind-up for a right hook to the solar plexus. Unexpectedly, arrows whoosh next to my face and neck to hollowly pierce the creature, so close that the fletching actually cut.

My eyes widen in pissed disbelief as it slumps to the mud. Raising a hand to my neck, I touch one of the stinging areas. Fingers coming away with blood that soon runs off in pink rivulets from the rain.

 _"Ah, hell nah..."_ I spin around to glare up at the archers on the wall, thrusting out my right arm to point at them. "YOU FUCKING IDIOTS STOP SHOOTING IF YOU CAN'T FUCKING AIM! I SWEAR WHOEVER SHOT THAT IS GOING TO GET THEIR STUPID FACE PUNCHED IN!"       

"I-I'm sorry, ma'am!" Some man yells down, looking stricken and fearful.     

"You stay right there! Your ass is grass!"

With renewed energy fueled by anger, I continue to help thin the herd until at last the small clearing is littered with new decaying bodies.

Puffs of steamy condensation float in the chilly air as everyone pants heavily from the exertion. Some leaning on staffs or swords to rest and catch their breath. I bend to place my hands on my knees and hang my head, breathing in deeply. The movement causes a burning sensation as cuts are stretched and warmth trails down.

Straightening with a snapping motion, I tug off my right glove and march through the gates, straight into the village. I completely ignore the men and women who had been outside to fight with us as I beeline for the archers who are filing down from the wall.

"It was the heat of-"

With a swift kick to his testicles, I cut him off. There's a whimpered whine as the man goes down on his knees, clutching his groin.

"Inquisitor! What is going on?!" Shocked confusion coming from Cassandra at my aggression.

"Ho damn! What did he do?" I hear from behind, obviously my teammates had followed.

"Oh, weren't jokin' when you shouted about someone shooting at you? Yeesh..." Sera mutters.

Not giving an answer, I straight punch the archer's nose. Blood gushes in a spurt at the solid hit and I turn away with a shake of my hand at the sting.

"I don't appreciate almost getting shot." Gesturing to my neck and cheek as I tug my fingerless glove back on. Even in their exhausted state, I feel three energies cover my injuries, mending the tender flesh.    

"You dare try to kill the Inquisitor?!"

"No, it wasn't on purpose, at least it better not have been. Just stupidity." I correct before anyone jumped the guy.

My reply earns the archer varying expressions of condemnation and annoyance from my companions. No sympathy being forthcoming as he writhes on the ground.           

"As much as the man deserved your ire, my dear, a woman of your status should be above such displays of brutish retaliation."

"Oh, I will thug it up with the best of 'em when its due, Vivienne. Position and reputation can suck it for all I care." Tightening my wrist strap, I look to a stunned bystander, "Where's your mayor? And there wouldn't happen to be a tavern or hall somewhere in this town?"

The aging woman wordlessly gapes at me before pulling herself together and firmly shutting her mouth. "Th-there is a town hall, your Holiness." Pointing to a decent sized lodge up the hill. "Our mayor is usually in his home this time of day. It's the last one on the right up the large stairs, my lady."

"Thanks." Turning my attention to everyone silently observing me, "You guys relax at the hall for a bit, Harding and the scouts can come with me to see about the mayor."

"Someone should accompany you. Outside the protective walls of Skyhold, you are at your most vulnerable. An intelligent adversary would take advantage of such a situation."

Nods of agreement meet Solas' counsel, their expressions stating they wouldn't budge on the issue.

"Power to the assassin who's willing to sit through this crap in the slim possibility I come on by; however, I get it. I only wanted to give everyone a chance to rest while we can. If you're feeling alright then come with me, we'll join you guys afterwards." I say with one last glance at the others before starting up a cobbled road to the mayor's cabin.

The street is relatively deserted as the five of us make the short climb to the mayor, the rain and constant threat of undead attacks forcing the townsfolk to seek the limited safety of their homes.

Stone steps end and the road transitions to hard packed dirt, continuing up the side of a small ridge to lead to some sort of ruined chantry above. We leave the pebbled path and trek to the sole building, soft light streaming through the cracks in the shutters letting us know that someone was present.

Raising a fist, I bang loudly to be heard over the rain and anything that could be occupying the mayor inside. Muffled scraping and shuffling filter through the door then it swings inward in a rush, the blaze from the fireplace illuminating our waiting figures.

"Yes? Who is it?" A slender middle aged man asks. Salt and pepper black hair neatly slicked back and pencil-thin mustache twitching from the interruption of whatever it was he was doing.

"We're with the Inquisition. Apparently you guys have an infestation and we're here to squash it."

"The Inquisition? Come in, come in!" Stepping out of the way and waving us within.

We file inside, dripping and creating large puddles where we stand in the middle of his floor. The heat from the fire raising goose bumps over my skin and making me aware of just how cold I had become. I can't help the wet sniffle as I face the mayor.

"Inquisition, eh? Mayor Dedrick of Crestwood Village at your service. You...are here to stop the undead then?"

"The Inquisitor actually..." Harding murmurs, correcting Dedrick.

"Yup. The problem is the rift. We close it and the dead should stay that way. Know of a way to get to it?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

Mayor Dedrick wrings his hands nervously for a moment before he seems to catch himself. "That glowing light above the lake? It is coming from below old Crestwood Village, from the caves. They were flooded ten years ago during the Blight when Darkspawn came through here. It completely wiped out the town and everyone in it, including the refugees we had taken in. There's no way to reach them now."

"And the dam? Is it operational?"

 _Ho-oh, damn! Solas jumped on it first._ Trying not to smirk at the look of panic in the mayor's eyes.

"You intend to drain the- There must be another way!"

"Nope. Going to have to drain it." Sounding a little too pleased about it even to my own ears.

"The dam controls are in the old fort. It's not safe to get to them as it stands. Bandits have taken up residence and you would have to fight your way through them to use the dam. You would be risking your life, I could not ask that of you." Dedrick is quick to supply in the hope we would be swayed from our course.

"No worries! We're like a walking army. Those bandits will be taken care of in no time and the fort, along with the dam, will be under Inquisition control."

"I- I suppose it was meant to come to this..." My declaration leaves him without any room to argue, with a resigned sigh and drop of his shoulders he looks to me. "I have the key you will need in order to reach the dam controls. They are inside the old tavern." Dedrick turns from us and walks to a desk in the far corner.

As he searches through a locked drawer, I address the scouts and him. "Thank you. And to make sure you stay safe Mayor Dedrick, my scouts here will stay beside you until myself or one of my men come for them. Wouldn't want the town to lose its leader right?" Meeting Harding's eyes to make sure she understood what I was asking of her. I was not about to spend time trying to find this coward when he ran. 

"Th-that shouldn't be necessary, Inquisitor. I would not want to waste their time or keep them from more pressing matters." Nervously walking forward to hand me the key.

"Nonsense, I'm sure they will enjoy the reprieve from the rain. Right, Harding?" I ask with a pointed quirk of an eyebrow.

"Yes indeed, your Worship. We are in your care for the time being, sir."

"Perfect! Then I leave things to you, Harding. Mayor Dedrick." I say by way of farewell, disregarding his attempts to stop me.

I tense when the cold rain hits me as I exit, no longer desensitized after being close to the warm fire. There's the faintest of twitches from Solas when he joins me outside, his cheeks and the tips of his ears slightly rouged from the chill.

The door behind us shuts with a creaking click and Solas waits only long enough for us to be out of earshot before turning to me. Suspicion and calculation written on his face.

"Fortuitous that Harding was brought along." Studying my face intently.

"They could have been utilized as a means of staying in contact with the Inquisition camp. However keeping an eye on the mayor seemed more important. Did he not look jumpy to you?" It wasn't necessarily a lie, I _could_ have used the scouts for that.

"Indeed. His discomfort and reluctance to inform us about the dam is suspicious. You were correct to set a guard." Seemingly allowing the matter to drop for now.

Side by side we walk to the stone steps, taking our time descending the slick stairs. Halfway down, he breaks the silence, tone casual and innocent, "Your gift. I'm curious, where did you see it? I have not encountered the like before."

I halt my descent, gazing up to examine his expression and watch as thick droplets run down angular features.

_Innocent query my butt. I see your fishing._

"I took advantage of the malleability of the Fade and pulled from my imagination. Since you like nature, I thought something like that would tickle your fancy." _Technically true._ "Why? Would you like something else instead?" Moving to stand closer.

"There was no fault in your choice, it was perfect. I would be pleased with anything you desire to give."

The subtle shift of his body to almost touch mine as beautiful grey eyes darken hint at exactly the kind of gift he would be receptive to. It was something I wanted to give with every fiber of my being, but I couldn't until he let go.

_Choose me. Please want me as I want you. Choose to experience a small bit of happiness even if you think it leads to heartache. Choose to be selfish, choose me Solas. Take that leap you wouldn't allow yourself until the Inquisitor pursued you. Show me you want me enough! Show me I'm not just a replacement!_

My heart, my very soul, pleads out for the impossible. But still I wait, giving him the power.

His hand drifts to caress my cheek, his touch so feather light I would have thought it only imagined if not for the heady warmth it brings. Its path electric as it moves up to gently push wet strands from my face. The intensity of his gaze brings a sense of breathlessness, as though my lips were being physically traced as I had done to his. A hand slides along my jaw to cradle the back of my head, tugging me closer. Shivers race down my spine and I close my eyes when Solas brings his nose to mine, running the tip teasingly along the side. Warm breath mingling with mine and lips so close I feel their sizzling pull.

"Tease..." Barely more than a whisper, hoping to taunt.

A smug chuckle is the only reply as his other hand slides along my bare side to my lower back. Tingling heat marking the path his hand took.  

Unbidden, an audible runny sniffle comes. Completely dousing any romantic intentions apparently as Solas chuckles again, resting is forehead against mine for a brief moment before releasing me to stand back. An amused grin brightening his face.

"Apologies, it was ill-considered. This is neither the time nor the place. You're chilled, let us join the others."

_Noooo~ Who gives a poo about the cold!_

My thought must have been evident on my face as his smirk widens. With a sweep of his hand, he gestures for me to proceed him.

Eyes promising retribution, I pivot to descend the stairs.

Indiscernible gleeful shouts and riotous laughter drifts down the street as we near the town hall. It's a burst of noise and light when the door is thrown open before we reach the porch. Hawke struts out alone but halts at the sight of our approach.

"You're probably going to take care of the rift before anything else I assume?"

"Looks that way. Were you coming to find us?"

"No actually. I thought maybe I would go it alone and give Alistair a heads up. As much as I like farting around with you guys, I'm not particularly looking to save every single person who crosses my path."

"Ah, gotcha. You sure you're going to be alright getting through templar, bandit, and now corpse infested land?"

There's a snort from Hawke. "Varric asked the same thing. I'm inclined to believe I'm immortal at this point. I'll be fine. See you at the cave, your Holy Tittiness."

With a wink at me and a cocky grin at the irritated expression on Solas' face, Hawke departs. Hiding my own amusement, I step to the door and head inside. I had a feeling we were both going to need the short downtime to recuperate prior to hitting the old fort. 


	23. Chapter 23

Waves crashing and the ghostly shine of Crestwood's rift create an ominous atmosphere as we fan out to hunker down behind stone pillars and walls. The fort within sprinting distance and suspiciously devoid of posted guards.

Bull and Cassandra crouch next to me on either side as we all wait for Cole to scout the situation.

"The gate is wide open, no patrols on the ground or on the battlements. It's risky, but we could rush it. No telling what's behind those gates, Boss." Shifting his body down to take cover.

Cassandra pops up just enough to get her eyes above the wall, scanning the old fort and surrounding area before settling back down. "I see nothing as well. Hopefully Cole has some news for us, otherwise we will have to chance it. That stronghold can house quite a few men, there is no telling how many bandits reside inside."

"It will be fine. We can just send Bull in to mesmerize them with his bounteous breasts--I mean pecs...yeah, pecs..." Keeping a straight face as I pretend to consider the gate.

Stifled snickers come from across the road, Sera and Blackwall having heard the exchange and looking like they desperately wanted to add something.

"Hey, yours are adequate, Boss. I'm sure they can draw a crowd. No need to get jealous of these pulsating muscles."

"They appear to be quivering." Cassandra pipes in with her rare show of humor.

"It-It's the rain!"

I'm still grinning when Cole poofs seemingly out of thin air in front of us.

"Wet, cold, fear of the death. Wish to go home. None would come through this storm, rest now...There is no one outside the gates, they wait for orders to move."

"Do you know how many are inside?"

"Dozens."

"Well...shit." Comes Iron Bull's response to the quantity.

"Hmm...do you think if we hit fast and hard, that we can get the number down before they have time to rally?" Incredibly thankful that I had had the foresight to save my magic until now. 

"If we get that gate open quick enough, then we have a shot."

I lift up enough to stare over the wall, chewing my bottom lip as I ponder how thick the heavy wood was and how much magic it would require to bust it down in a hurry. With an inner curse, I wish I had thought to bring lyrium potions with me.

Suddenly there's two small vials pushed at me. Stunned, I take the proffered gift from Cole, a question in my eyes as I look at him.

"Someone is always in need. I have bandages and health poultices too. Would you like them?"

"No, no this is good. Thank you, Cole." Opening a pocket close to my knee, I address the others as everyone comes to circle around. "Dorian, Vivienne, Solas, and I will take out that gate, when it goes boom it's going to be a cluster fuck, so everyone be ready to charge in when it does. Cole, Bull, Cassandra, and Blackwall; you guys keep pressing forward, the rest of us will follow in your wake. We need to make sure we don't get stuck in one area for too long. Sound good?" Raising a brow in inquiry as I look around those with me.

"Simple enough, you want us to plow through 'em, Boss." Nodding his head in affirmative.

"Leave it to us. We will clear a path through those bandits like hallas on sweet grass." Blackwall confidently states with a readying of his shield.

Patting my pocketed vials to reassure myself, I stand up and step out into the road. Waiting only long enough to see that everyone had drawn their weapons, I try my hand at my first real Fade Step.

Phasing to Solas had worked quite well, though not considering the running into my target part. So theoretically as long as I pictured and desired to be in a certain spot, then giving myself over to my magic will put me where I generally wanted to be.

Disorienting weightlessness and an audible _voomph,_ phase me straight into the gate. I twist to take the impact with my shoulder, my insides feeling like I had been on a speeding rollercoaster and it had come to a sudden stop as I bounce off the heavy wood.

Shaking off the jarring collision and having no time to lose, I advance and gather potent magic to smash the gate. Intending to break through in one go.

Powerful energy pummels the thick wood in a barrage of elements above me, carving and chipping deep grooves to the point that light from the other side was visible. With a yell, I punch out using everything I had to finish it off.

It's a resounding crashing explosion of wood and debris as it all flies inward while billows of raindrops and small fragments cut past me from the blowback. The balls of my feet dig in to dash inside, intending to push with the warriors and Cole. However huge squat bodies charging full throttle have me phasing backwards without looking to get away.

"Holy shit!" Skidding along my ass to come to a stuttered halt next to Solas' legs.

Hurriedly I pop to my feet as I hear Sera call from ahead, "And that's why I let the nutters go in first!" Her arrows expertly finding the gaps between armor to lodge into tender Mabari flesh.

Drawing my right dagger, I Fade Step to trot beside Cole but end up ungracefully ahead of him. Arrows whistling through my afterimage push me to phase into the courtyard or risk being an open target for the awaiting archers.

The square is small for castle standards. Large enough to only comfortably hold a hundred soldiers and a covered ten horse stable. Cascading staircases frame the stables and act as the sole route into the fort, creating a potential choke point.    

Bandits wielding melee weapons break from the archers, charging to meet our approach. My unexpected Fade Step sends me directly into a lightly armored soldier, his small hatchet falling from his grasp as I unintentionally tackle him to the stone. The contact knocks the air from my lungs, stunning me for precious seconds. From my peripheral the archers on the stairs take aim. On impulse I let go of my dagger and seize handfuls of the man's leather while throwing my bodyweight to the side. Rolling us to position him on top.

His deep hazel eyes widen in shock as I feel his body jolt from arrows spearing his back. As his body begins to slump over me, I divert his weight to fall beside me instead, wiggling out from under his lower half. My hand brushes against the discarded blade and I hurriedly snatch it up.

"Now is not the time to throw yourself at men, my friend!"

"I couldn't help myself!" Calling jokingly to Dorian as I scramble to my feet and dash to join the warriors on the stairs.

Iron Bull is a living wrecking ball as his two-handed axe cleaves and tosses bodies down the stairs. While Cole provides support by knocking  enemies into the path of Bull's strikes or silently dealing death to those Bull is unable to get. Cassandra and Blackwall have disappeared to the other staircase, forcing the bandits to split their number.

With a, "watch your step on the way down!" to a woman who was attempting to sneak up on Cole, I grab her tunic from behind and tug as hard as I can to send her tumbling down the stairs. A solid kick to my stomach pushes me hard into the side of the wall, my feet slipping a little on the slick steps as a short sword arcs to cut my bicep.

Using my dagger to redirect the attack to harmlessly swipe past, I shove out with my left hand, sending magic to hit the man in his chest. There's a grunted _oomph_ as it pushes him over the side of the staircase to drop onto the stables below.

Quickly I trot to take the steps two at a time to reach the top, flinging energy into the face of a bandit who appeared from the stone passageway and giving Blackwall the opportunity to cruelly chop through most of their neck.   

The warriors don't linger at the top, instead pressing forward to dash inside the stone breezeway.

Men and women line the landing above the inner bailey, notching arrows and bolts alike to take aim when we emerge from the passage. Barriers slam over the warriors as Cassandra and Blackwall raise their shields in reflex.  Swords, spears, maces, and daggers surge forward when the volley from above fails.

"I got the archers!" Sheathing my dagger as I phase past my teammates and through gaps in the charging ranks.

"What?!" --"Get back here!"--"Hey!"--"Inky's a wild totter!"

I don't halt, pushing my magic to keep coming as I phase straight into another Fade Step the second it slowed.

_Voomph._

I hit the first raised platform, knocking into a rather bulky man with a halberd. Pushing away with an elbow to his face, I phase away to the stairs. Arrows and bolts rain down from above, piercing my afterimages as they try to stop me. Breathlessly I smash into the curtain wall when I make it up the stairs, bouncing off just as wood sails directly into where my body had connected with the wall.

Without recovering I Fade Step again, weaving between more bandits on their way down to join the fray taking place in the ward below. Almost to the landing the phase ends, the archers now focused solely on me, knowing I'm the biggest threat at the moment. Not pausing, I Fade Step for the last time, gathering together everything I could for a Spirit Blade.

Just as the Fade Step finishes, my Spirit Blade starts to drop to the stone, too heavy for me to hold up. Letting my little bomb touch the landing, I hurriedly Fade Step to fling myself over the side and into the bailey below.        

I'm forcefully hurled farther then intended as a maelstrom of magic ripples outward and knocks into my back. It's a crashing jolt when I land on wooden scaffolding, my left leg taking the vicious impact before the momentum sends me tumbling off to brutally slam to the stone on my arm. A solid curtain of water cascades over the ward from the blast, feeling like a waterfall and adding insult to injury when I choked on the water. 

I curl into a ball, cradling my right arm as stabbing pain shoots up both my arm and leg. There's no time to nurse or wallow in my hurt though, the archers may be gone but the melee was still going strong around me.

Puffing out deep gusts of air, I get to my feet while I fumble in my pocket for a lyrium vial. I get enough time to gulp it down before Halberd Man who I had elbowed in the face earlier, step-slides to cleave through my torso. Chucking my bottle at his head, I Fade Step away to safety.  

"Andraste's lady balls! Inky you're a real friggin' nutter, it was glorious!" Sera jovially sings when I appear next to everyone.

"Did you see the mayhem you caused?! You should do that more often, Boss!"

A pained and weary chuckle comes from me as I take panting breathes, using the others as a buffer before jumping back into the fight. The injuries hurt something terrible and divided my attention but I could only grit my teeth and keep going.

An axe comes down to chop at my skull, with a hissed grunt I swipe it away and step into the woman's space to enhance heel kick her.

Gradually we shoot, slash, and bash our way up the stony steps to the landing above. Mutilated bodies of the enemy greeting us as we set a course for the keep, intending to finish clearing the fort. It's apparent that I was not the only one battling injuries and fatigue as we fought our way through the halls. Attacks and swings becoming increasingly sloppy the farther in we went.

When we reach the highest walkway, men with definite rank wait for us judging by their quality armor. Signifying that we had finally found the leadership of this outfit. Amidst the deep gasping breathes of my companions, I chug the last lyrium vial. The other had done very little for me and I hoped that it was just a matter of quantity as I swallow the bitter poultice.  

There's a collective deep inhale then it's a fierce last charge at the bandits. Magic zips and ghosts through the rain to bring down anyone not quick enough to dodge. Arrows and bolts are fired in fast succession to provide support for our warriors and Cole as they rush headlong into the fray.

Heavy fatigue causes me to clumsily side-kick a man with his back turned off the edge of the walkway, my form ungainly as I take stumbled steps. An animalistic shout rings out from the ramparts, drawing my attention. Adjusting my grip on the hilt of my blade, I square off on the narrow walkway, waiting for the giant of a man to get closer.

A huge two-handed maul rests loosely in his hands. The horned helm, war paint, and goat skin armor marking him for an Avvar.

With a snarled yell, he swings his maul in a wide arc, intending to either crush me or toss me over the side. I drop down into a duck, however my injury and exhaustion make for a slow recovery as the Avvar counters with a swift heel kick to my sternum. I skid back clutching my chest, rotating so I could watch his approach and attempt to hurl magic at him.

Determined strides bring him to my prone figure, he lifts the maul to smash downward and I wind-up energy to slam into him. It would be a race to see who was faster; his swing or my magic.

There's an excited war-cry then suddenly Bull is bodily shouldering him back like a football player. Magic and wood whoosh overhead, indicating he was all that was left of the enemy resistance.

Saved, I gingerly roll to my side and shakily get to my feet. Turning my head, I see that Iron Bull and the support team had made quick work of the Avvar, his heavy maul dropping from lifeless fingers as he slumped to fall face first onto the wet stone.  

Great heaving breathes fill the now still walkway, everyone either swaying on tired legs or leaning against something to stay upright.

"How about we stop standin' in the rain like a bunch of jackholes and go inside, yeah?" Too weary to do anything more, grunts and nods of agreement answer Sera's suggestion. 

Sluggishly the team lumbers back into the keep, hisses and groans carrying out as body's lowered to sit or prop themselves against furniture. After chugging lyrium; Vivienne, Dorian, and Solas fan out to heal everyone.

Squatting down next to me, I see the warm glow of his magic flare before I halt him. "I can wait, they are worse off." Gesturing to the warriors and Cole. "I'm just sore, save me for last." I lie.

I was in excruciating pain but I could breathe through it and wait. The others had gashes, cuts, and visible bruises. If I hurt, I couldn't imagine what they felt like. Plus, since they were bleeding, it was important that get taken care of.

Solas searches my eyes for a moment, judging the truthfulness of my statement. "You went down pretty hard earlier. And again with the Avvar."

"I'm good." Hoping my smile looked reassuring and not like I was wishing for sweet unconsciousness to escape the pain.

With an expression of obvious reluctance, Solas stands and moves over to Blackwall who gingerly sits upon a crate.

I lean my head back to rest against the wall, my legs stretched out as I sit on the floor and take shallow breathes to manage the pain in my chest.

_At least I don't have an overwhelming urge to vomit, so yay to not embarrassing myself that way. Nothing says awesomeness like projectile vomiting at people._

It felt like forever before Vivienne knelt next to me. My body shivering from the pain and cold while my jaw felt tired and somewhat sore from being clenched for so long. Crisp and cool magic tingles over my skin, zeroing in on hurts to mend and soothe. A grateful sigh escapes me at the sensation and I close my eyes in relief that it was over.

"Someone will have to stay here to hold the fort until reinforcements can take over. Wouldn't want all this crap to be for nothing."

"We can decide that after everyone has had time to rest, Bull. Even if we wanted to press on, no one is in a fit state to go anywhere." Cassandra states as she rubs her forehead in thought, obviously already considering what steps to take next.

I only half listen as suggestions and ideas are thrown around, getting more and more drowsy now that shooting and throbbing pain wasn't keeping me awake. My eyelids flutter shut and my head droops a little when I hear someone call for me.

"-Right Inquisitor?"

Blearily I look up, "Mm? Yeah." and give a weak thumbs up. Having absolutely no idea what I was agreeing to.

"The Inquisitor appears to be down for the count, maybe let her rest before we ask for an opinion." Blackwall's voice comes from across the room.

I don't miss some of the worried expressions directed at me when my eyes drift shut again, "S'I'm good..." Words coming out more of a mumble.

For some reason I was just so sleepy. I vaguely hear my companions continue their conversation but I don't catch any of it. The fight to stay awake becoming impossible and I give up trying, allowing sleep to drag me down into oblivion.


	24. Chapter 24

The uncomfortable hardness of the floor and my position against the wall prods me to lethargic wakefulness. A blanket that someone had found falls from my shoulders as I sit up with a groan, my neck and back incredibly stiff from being contorted like a discarded puppet.

"So the dead awakens. Feeling better?" Dorian asks with a surprising amount of perkiness considering the day we've had so far.

"How long have I been out for?" Rubbing the sleep from my eyes and noting that besides Dorian; only Blackwall, Cole, Varric, and Sera were in the room with me.

"Not long, maybe two hours. You looked like you could use the respite so the others are doing a sweep of the fort. They have way too much energy." Varric chimes in for Dorian, a rag in his hand as he calibrates Bianca. Blackwall and Sera who had been dosing slack jawed against the wall together both comically startle awake at the sound of our voices. Cole quietly sits upon a table swinging his legs, guarding and ensuring our safety as we rested.

Varric wasn't wrong, I was still dead tired for some reason but we still needed to drain that lake and who knew how long that would take.

"I'm feeling alright now. How about we get that dam working while the coast is clear? No telling if more crap is going to throw itself at us."

"Shouldn't we wait for the others to get back first? Disappearing without warning might worry them." Blackwall counters with a swipe of his hand down his face and stretching of his neck to shake the nap off.

"Nnuughhh...we gotta go back out there already...Stupid rift, making stupid rain..." Sera groans miserably from beside Blackwall.

"It shouldn't take all of us to work some controls. Sera, do you want to wait with Varric while the rest of us go? I doubt we will be able to get down to the caves anytime soon anyway."

"Well if you insist." She agrees magnanimously.

"Are you sure, Glow Bait?"

Standing with a long stretch to work out some of the stiffness and a grin at Varric's worried expression, "I'm sure we won't be gone long. Anyone happen to know where we're supposed to go to find this tavern?"

"Bumbling around an old, recently bandit infested fort, searching for a gate leading to an out of the way tavern sounds perfectly safe. That doesn't bode ill whatsoever, what could possible go wrong, Varric?" Lifting his staff from beside him and slinging it over his shoulder.

"I saw it. The wood was lonely, no one came to use it anymore."

"...'the wood was lonely'...right..." Sera sardonically comments with a roll of her eyes. "Why can't anything normal, or hey!--not creepy, come out of your mouth?"

"Lead the way then, my little angel cake." Making sure to pat my pant pocket to be certain I hadn't lost the key before following Cole.

Blackwall, Dorian, and myself trail after Cole's gliding strides. Down poorly lit hallways and dark staircases until once again we are in the inner ward. He doesn't falter in his progress as he steps out into the chill rain and across the landing to a door set against the shadow of the curtain wall.

Each of us tenses at the first touch of cold, trotting to get out of the downpour quickly. The door is blessedly unlocked and as we enter the dim space, the smell of moldy straw and wood pervading our noses. Hay covered the floor and giant wooden casks lined the walls, providing the answer for the source of the foul odor.

In the far corner an impressive iron framed wooden door looms, the one in which we had been searching for it seemed. I shove with all my might to get the heavy gate open. The hinges so rusted from years of abandonment that Blackwall had to put his own shoulder to it just to get it to shrilly scrape open enough to allow us to exit.

"So, who feels like the village simpleton after seeing that?" Dorian glibly asks as he points to the ladder off to our left.

"And miss the chance to show our prowess? Never!" Our resident Beard jokes good-naturedly.

With a disgusted sigh at my lapse of memory of the alternate route, I set off down the washed out cobbled path to the stone bridge. It's in astonishingly good shape, built to obliviously withstand the test of time. Only the faded and tattered banners sadly hanging overhead betray an sign of age.

Our strides are hurried as we walk across the long bridge. The rough waves of the lake below audible while the ever present hazy gleam of the rift is easily visible from our vantage point. An oiled torch mysteriously burns outside the door of the tavern, illuminating a metallic skull ringed by a horn. The words, _The Rusted Horn,_ clearly engraved on the side of the huge skull.

"Passionate kisses. A soft, whispered touch, a promise to stay..."

"Is the Inquisitor day-dreaming again, Cole?" Blackwall quietly chuckles.

"They linger inside. Wanting nothing more than to feel a moment of happiness."

"You're saying people are inside, Cole?" Taking his staff from his back to rest loosely in his grip.

"I think we will be just fine, Dorian, put that away. Cole said they are lovers. Let's go break up the love fest." Smirking as I push open the door and step inside.

"Yes, because nothing says romance quite like cobwebs, stale ale, and questionable odors." A sarcastic mumble comes from behind me as we enter the bright hallway.

My enthusiasm to interrupt the lovebirds takes a significant hit when girlish giggles and soft moans greet us just before we exit the entry, not particularly wanting to discover at what stage of undress they had made it to.

Too late to abort, I step out and do a hasty glance at the hearth to determine if I needed to avert my gaze.

A raging fire burns in the fireplace, an animal fur flung before it to give an air of romantic coziness. Or at least as much romantic coziness that could be achieved in a rundown tavern with dust and cobwebs over tables and benches. A couple appearing to be in their teens sit on the skin, absorbed in each other as the boy trails kisses down the girl's neck.

She's the one who notices our entrance, "What in the--AHH~!!" her eyes widening in shocked mortification as she hurriedly gets off the boy's lap and closes her bodice.

"Wha-" Turning to look at what had startled his companion. With a curse he jumps up to shield the girl with his body, "Who are you? We don't want any trouble."

"Whoa! Calm your tits. We are the Inquisition and we have no interest in your little love tryst. We're only here to mess with the dam controls then you two horn-dogs can go back at it. Though I suggest locking the door or something, my man. You don't look like you could handle a ladybug, let alone anything hostile if it came through..." I lightly recommend as I ignore their red flabbergasted expressions and pass them to beeline for the back room.  

The webs are terrible as we move through the storage room, the locked door to the dam controls positively covered. Rummaging in my pocket for the key, I hesitate long enough to use a dagger to clear some of the sticky threads before getting close and shoving the door open.

It's a solitary small room with only a central gear inside. My teammates coming forward to surround it in confusion.

"I thought the mayor said it was destroyed by darkspawn?" Stepping up to the wheel and studying it for any sign of breaks.

"Looks like he lied. Come on, let's get this done and get out of here. We can deal with this later." Grabbing one of the arms and digging in to push as hard as I can as the others follow suit.

There's no budge of the gear for long seconds as everyone strains to get it to move. Then a gradual turn begins, becoming easier and easier the more we turn. Deafening groans and creaks fill the tiny space as the dam controls rotate for the first time in years.

"That should do it." When the gear would turn no more.

"Let's see how the others are faring without us shall we?"

The couple is still blushing and embarrassed as we make our way past and out of the tavern, grins and smirks on our faces at their expense.

 

~

 

As luck would have it, it did not take long for the lake to drain. Well, partially at least. It was enough that we could trudge along the outskirts of the old village.

After conferring with the others upon our return from the pub, we had decided it would be wise to split into three groups. Varric and Blackwall would return to Crestwood Village and inform the scouts of the fort's capture and hopefully send word that we needed reinforcements. Then return to the fort to join the other three who had been left behind to watch it.

Hopefully by then, the rift team would have completed sealing the portal of doom and we could all head to Hawke.

This was how Iron Bull, Cole, Solas, and Sera; found themselves drawing the short end of the stick to locate the rift with me.

We had left the path from the fort behind long ago, now following the few cobbled stones that hadn't managed to wash away with the flood. So far only rotten logs and support beams had been spotted along our route, the sole indications that a village had once stood here.

A separate, solitary rift had unexpectedly opened as we picked our way along the shore, surprising the crap out of me when demons popped forth.

"Wh--GAAHH!" Dropping like a rock when a Wraith's goop blast hits me square in the chest. Solas' barrier protectively encases us all before more shots have a chance to find their mark.

 _A little late!_ I thought irritably as my body convulses uncontrollably in the mud.  

Sera and Solas close in to stand over my massively twitching figure, firing upon the Wraiths and lone Rage demon who began to materialize from a whirling pool of flames.

Demons fall one after the other to the team's onslaught, only to be replaced just as quickly. The Rage demon slithers straight for us, completely disregarding Bull and Cole for tastier prey. Sera's arrow's disintegrate in clouds of ashes as they attempt to pierce it's blazing body. Magic slamming brutally into it only make its progress falter; Solas' attention divided in too many places to produce a finishing blow.

The sensation of mud boiling even with the barrier present pushes me to endeavor to get up and seal the rift. Seemingly in vain I struggle to stand, only to flop back down. Again and again I flounder, until finally I can keep my stance. It's ungainly and my body is still twitching with full body shudders racing through me, but I was remaining upright.

My left hand reaches for the rift, pulling, mending, and stuffing it closed. An answering glow coming from the anchor as it buzzes and thrums angrily.

"Are you alright?" Letting his barriers dissipate once demon and Fade bits are harmlessly dissolving in the rain.

Rubbing a shaking hand over my chest, "my heart tickles." When my joke was met with an expression of worry mixed with horror, I chuckle and try to reassure him. "I'm guu--good." The reply coming a little disjointed as a particularly strong convulsion comes over me.

"Uh huh. Cuz people who are fine stutter." Sera snorts.

"You'll walk it off, Boss. A little rough housing is good for the soul!"

"Deadly primordial energies to the body is not what I would consider 'rough housing', Bull. He is right however, it will need to pass." Solas states with a firm press of his lips as he studies me.

"Eh, it's not that bad." And it really wasn't anymore.

Initially it felt like what I imagined being tasered would feel like, a very strong zap like I had touched a super charged light socket. It had hurt at first, but gradually it had went away and I no longer felt any pain. Though my body still suffered aftershocks and uncontrollable twitches.

Our progress is sluggish as we trudge in the shadow of Crestwood's cliffs. The sinking of our steps in the soft ground and emergence of the undead clawing their way out of the muck slowing us. Many a ghoulish limb broke through the muddy earth, grasping for freedom. So prevalent that we ignored those not in our direct path, otherwise we ran the risk of becoming bogged down by the sheer number.      

Leaving the bluffs behind, homes shielded from the worst of the rushing waters stand gloomily in the rotting desolation of old Crestwood. The vapory forms ghosting over the wreckage a welcome sight to my eyes, knowing the end was that much closer.

"UGH! Look at 'em all! It's going to take us ages to push through 'em." Her face scrunching in disgust at the number of spirits.

"They are not corrupted. Not demons. They drift, wandering, floating. Hello!" Cole excitedly waves to some nearby spirits.

"Don't call them over! Aww, look what you've done!" Sera exclaims. Both she and Bull appearing to be increasingly uncomfortable as one by one, spirits turn their translucent heads and glide straight for us.

"It's fortunate the rift did not warp them into demons. Few we have seen have had such luck. They will not harm you, Sera."

"So says you! Bet your elfy breeches are positively plumpin' from excitement."

My smile at their banter falters when the crowd of spirits continues to grow and they all seem to be zeroing for me.

"Uhh..." Looking around in worried confusion as luminous bodies surround me.

I tense when ethereal hands touch and even appear to pass through my body. The sensation not painful but most certainly weird and having a tingling chill to it.

"Hey! If you're going to shove body parts in me, at least buy me dinner first!" Raising my hands up and trying to back away from them. Doggedly they follow, unwilling to break the contact.

"It's blazing, radiant. Warm. It calls to them, a siren's song."

"It's nice they think my glowing business is cool, but how do I get them to go away, Cole?"

"They only desire to feel it's heat, they do not wish to harm."

"Figured as much." Sighing at Cole's response. I eye the spirits around me, non seeming like they were going to get bored anytime soon. "Alright, you guys want some of this? Here you go!"

On impulse I flap my wrists inside one of them, allowing some of my magic to gather harmlessly. The spirit jolts back, brighter then it was previously. Its shadowy form spinning in rapid circles before suddenly zipping away and back into the village.

"Oh shit...I didn't mean it!" Putting my arms straight in the air above my head and looking anxiously at Cole and Solas for answers.

"What did you do? I felt only a slight stirring of magical energies. " Solas' brows furrowing in bewilderment as his gaze follows the retreating spirit.

"It's happy, you gave it a gift."

"Oh." Hesitantly I do the same thing to another one. Again its glow intensifies and happy dancing ensues before it leaves me alone. Or what I assumed was dancing; who knows, I could have given it the spirit equivalent of a seizure. Either way, they seemed to enjoy it.

With an "alrighty then!", I flap my wrists inside the rest of the spirits around me. Trotting to meet any that I hadn't touched yet in a sort of game with myself as we travel the streets of old Crestwood. Heading for the cliffs rising menacingly beyond.

"You're an odd one, Inky...willingly touching those things..." Sera gives an exaggerated shudder. When I dash to head off another spirit, she shakes her head. "You enjoy that way too much!"

It doesn't go as planned however when the spirit I flutter at exclaims in an offended tone.

"What are you doing?! Such insolence!"

"Oh, uhh... I thought you would like it?" Not entirely sure what else to say.

"Stop that, it's weird! I _order_ you to heed my command!"

"A lost spirit," sounding absolutely thrilled. "This should-"

"Silence! Let the other one talk. I would hear from this one." Command's ghostly head turns back to me, "why will nothing here listen? I order the land to move, it does not! I bid the sky to mend, it remains unchanged! I don't know how you mortals stand it."

"The waking world isn't as malleable as the Fade as it is now. You're going to want to go back if it bothers you so much."

"I cannot! I will not be denied! I lead armies, kingdoms, lords! I am Imperial, I am Command.-"

"Or Pomposity." I hear Solas comment under his breath.

"-I refuse to leave until something obeys my orders!" Completely ignoring Solas to finishing their rant.

Lips twitching as I try to hide my amusement, "what would you like us to do?"

"Splendid! Finally something listens! A creature made of Rage had the gall to chase me across the lake. Destroy it in my name."

"Doing the bidding of a spirit sounds like an easy way to get possessed."

"Your body holds no appeal!" Command sniffs with disdain at Bull.

"It's all I needed to hear!" He retorts with mock sincerity.

 

~      

 

Resplendent blue light penetrates the dense darkness of the cave as Solas' staff flares to life, a shinning beacon to lead us through the dismal gloom. Bacteria over the walls and ceiling give the cave a lustrous, slimy feel as we step around and under large stalactites on our way through the tunnel.

The presence of wooden planks, like someone had made a walkway , and pieces of destroyed crates have the others questioning to what end their purpose brings unless there had been inhabitants within the caves.

Limestone faintly glows at the end of the tunnel, breaking the monotonous black and lightening to a dull gray as the passage opens to a yawning cavern. Water cascades from above, small waterfalls decorating the mineral deposits and creating an almost serene picture. Boards sloping to spiral downward bridge the gaping mouth of a vast hole in the center of the grotto, shattering any illusions of tranquility I had.

Sideways I inch my way to slowly peer over the edge, wondering how deep the pit was and giving a groan when I don't see the bottom. Bull strides fearlessly to the walkway, testing the wood with his foot.

"This has 'we're all falling to a horrible death' written all over it." The creaking and sound of wood starting to snap adding credence to his statement as Bull takes his weight off a plank.

"It will hold long enough for us to pass safely." Blue vine-like tendrils creep along the walkway as Solas steps forward, his magic reinforcing our path.

"Handy." Approval in his tone as Iron Bull takes lead, using himself as the guinea pig.

"Inky, if you're going to vomit, do it away from me." Sera teases when she sees my expression and jovially follows Bull. "I'm sure if the magic fails then you'll only feel the weightlessness for a moment, then _'splat!'_. "

"It will not." Voice stating he was fully confident in his capabilities.

Solas hangs back, waiting for me to proceed him. His eyes asking for my trust. It wasn't a matter of trust. I just hated heights, plain and simple.

I meet his gaze so there is no doubt to my sincerity. "I believe in you, that is never in question."

My legs shake uncontrollably when I set foot on the wood. The softness of the boards due to the rot and the rather big gaps between each one doing nothing to help my nerves. Only the sensation of Solas' magic beneath my feet and the surety of his presence behind keep me from full blown panic and moving forward.

 _"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck."_ Walking faster when I see that the spiral ends partway down and the path continues to disappear into another tunnel. Wanting nothing more than to get the hell off the death bridge.

Our way was perfectly lit by iridescent mushrooms and some type of teal mineral, making the light from Solas' staff no longer necessary. Their prevalence increasing when the short tunnel ends and becomes another grotto. Completely overrun by slimy bacteria and hard stalactites, some so large they grew from floor to ceiling.

As we enter, corpses wrestle free from the slippery walls, long strings of what looked like snot hanging from their bodies. It's unsurprising and their appearance if met with indifference, the constant bombardment of undead popping out wherever you looked having desensitized us.

Not seeming to break stride or lose calm, arrows and magic bring them to jolting stops. Those still moving are quickly sliced down as we pass. Everyone appearing to be quite done with dealing with decaying things for one day.

The team's disquiet about the Crestwood situation and items littered throughout the caves intensifies when supplies for a camp and more human remains are found on our way through the grotto. I can practically see the theories and connections forming in their minds as they put things together.

Red-golden light beams from a corner in the cavern, it's source not entirely visible when we march over to investigate. A path not readily detected until you were right on it leads farther into the earth, planked stairs the only route to whatever was creating the glow.

"Humming, soft and strong. A song to guide, to endure." His words sounding like his mind was far away as Cole ran pale fingers lightly over the wall.

"The dwarves built well. Their runes still sing."

Built well was an understatement. The ruins we found ourselves in would not have been considered 'ruins' at all if one was to take the time to chisel out all the stalactites that grew throughout the halls. Other than their presence, the corridor was devoid of any ruble or apparent destruction. Tiles and smooth stone slabs remained unblemished and unbroken.

Deep rumbling laughter on the verge of being maniacal filters down the passage, the origin unclear until we come upon a turn and a very large Rage demon eerily burns. It's head indistinct but somehow able to convey smug satisfaction as we face off. A hunter having patiently waited for the quarry to come to it and been rewarded for his patience.

Cole vanishes in a cloud of green as Bull charges forward with a battle cry, his body taking on a sparkling blue quality due to Solas' barrier. His huge axe cleaving clean through the demon's left arm and part of his torso. With another superior chuckle, the arm regrows and the cut drips closed.

Green precedes Cole as he slide-steps to flank Rage, swiftly slashing out in quick succession. The heat is blistering even with the barrier protectively taking the brunt of it as Rage seems to expand and a violent inferno consumes it before its expelled in a wave to scorching heat.

I raise my arm to shield my face just as everyone is sent flying by the discharge. The very air seems to be burning, making deep breaths a little difficult as I scramble to my feet. I can feel the stone underfoot warming up as Rage slithers for me, my 'radiance' probably drawing it.

Sera and Solas pick themselves up with graceful agility, their proximity very close and in danger of being caught in whatever attack Rage had in store for me.

I Fade Step behind Rage, away from the others and forcing it to halt and turn around if it wanted me. Energy gathers at both hands, spears forming that are hurled one after the other directly into Rage's back.

Rage arches back at the impact, its body quivering angrily as it twists around and slides for me. Potent Spirit energy punches it from behind, sending it lurching forward. Rage turns its head, undecided on who it wanted now. Another strike slams into it, bringing the demon to lay flat.

Wrath oozes from it at the assault, it's target now certain.

I wasn't having any of that. I phase to Rage as it raises like lava from the tile floor, shoving my fist into its body.

"Owowowowowow! Hothothothothothot!" Solas' barrier flares brighter when I do, keeping my body from turning to ash. Gathering magic together, I release it freely inside Rage, setting off a mini bomb to shred it apart from within.

There's a harsh roar as Rage's body tenses and expands once again, its arms spreading wide.

"Duck for cover!"

Not one to question, I Fade Step away. My foot tripping as I phase next to Solas. Before I fall he grabs me and bodily hauls me with him behind a pillar of stalactite. Searing heat and waves of flame ripple out in an explosion of fiery doom just as we hit it. His barrier working overtime to keep everyone from burning to a crisp as the demon dies.

Steam wafts all around when it's over, small embers smoldering here and there where the damp was not enough to extinguish it.

With a _pooff,_ I lean my head back to rest against Solas' chest, relaxing into his embrace.

"Everyone still breathing?"

"WOOHOO! We're alive!"

At the sound of their voices, Solas relinquishes his hold and I reluctantly get up.

"It burns and aches. You hurt." Cole says when we all meet in the middle of the open corridor.

"It's not that bad. Though, note to self: 'Don't put things in Rage demons'." The pain already starting to fade before I get through my joke, healing magic quick to soothe and mend.

"Feel free to spread that elf love. The kid looked like he took a nasty tumble." Magic sizzles in the air following Bull's words, flowing over limbs to locate hurts as everyone gets treated by Solas.

The route is straightforward to the rift, many of the halls blocked entirely or sealed shut. My palm buzzes excitedly the closer we get and it's a relief when only two archways present themselves with the rift clearly visible through one of them.

Sera stays to the back, near the doorway as the rest of us move inside the narrow hallway and into a giant empty room. Thick stone pillars ring a raised center platform in four corners. Stalactites grow densely along the dais, blocking the way to the far wall and making the huge room feel crowded.

Arrows provide support fire as we hit water and splash our way to the rift.

Cole and Bull spread out to handle the Shades and Wraiths springing forth while Solas stays nearby, ensuring I'm unmolested so I can focus on the rift.

This fissure is large, I feel it the second the anchor connects. Mending the edges and stuffing the gaping maw taking longer than normal. Demons fall and spawn all around, a repetitive cycle that I ignore in order to end.

There's a flurry of movement from my peripheral and surge of magical energy. When I hear, _"fenedhis!"_ my eyes shift from the rift overhead to look at Solas.

Two Lesser Terrors were crawling from a whirlpool, separating us. His attempts to get through them hindered by Shades who were slithering to draw his attention.

I only have enough time to catch the gist of the situation before a brutal hit knocks into my side, throwing me to the stone and disrupting the rift.

Shrill shrieks and heavy pressure hammer me down into the tile when I tried to roll over and get up, feeling like a foot was crushing my entire body and pressing me down. I gratefully suck in a lungful of air when it disappears, my body beginning to rotate just as a clawed hand seizes an ankle and easily lifts me.

My body swings upside down as the Terror holds me. I hurl as much magic as I can gather just as it viciously flings me away. I smash into stalactite, shattering the top from the force of the impact. I lay amid the deposits, struggling to draw breath and seeming unable to.

A Shade slides to hover over me, readying to swipe down with razor sharp claws.

Green smoke billows from behind it and then two daggers appear to stab into either side of its neck. Demon bits explode in a shower above me and then Cole is hauling me up.

"I have you. I will take you to Solas, you'll be safe, healed, whole."

"N-n-no. Rift. Get me to the rift..." Finding it incredibly hard to get the words out.

"But--"

"C-Cole..." Breaths coming out as a wheeze as I stare at him, pleading with him to listen.

Reluctantly he nods his head and drags me closer to the rift.

Demons are quickly filling the room, the team fighting to make a dent in the number and get to us. Cole barely gets me close enough to connect the anchor before he's forced to put me down in order to keep the demon's back.

Having no other option, I divide my attention between sealing the rift and gathering energy for potent magic. I send out an arcing current that flings everything away and gives me time to close the rift.

My agonized cry is silent as the snapping pop of the rift sealing fills the chamber. My lungs still unable to get a proper breath. I curl into a ball on the chilly stone, powerless to do more than struggle to breathe and ride out the waves of pain in my palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Fenedhis: (Elven) Lit. Wolf penis. Elven curse, loosely similar to 'damn it'


	25. Chapter 25

A hand firmly presses to my back, forcing magic into my lungs to demand their obedience.

I breath in with a loud choked gasp, chest feeling like it was on fire as much needed oxygen rushes to re-inflated lungs. The dizzying lightheadedness gradually fading as my wheezed pants even out to something more controlled. I keep my forehead on the tile floor, savoring the simple happiness of being able to breathe again. Solas' thumb gently rubs over a shoulder blade, offering silent comfort as his magic works its way through me.

"You're becoming the team caretaker, to me especially. I think you spend more time fixing me up then doing anything else." Cracking open an eye to look up at him and giving a weak smile.

"I must admit, you are providing an abundance of practice and test of endurance. Though, if your proclivity towards impulsively performing hazardous actions could be tapered, I would not complain." Solas says with droll humor and a wry smirk.

"Hate to interrupt the googly eyes--actually not really, but how about we get out of this slimy snot hole?"

With a chuckle I amble to my feet, seconding Sera's thought of wanting out of this place.

Knowing there would be an alternate route out of the caves, I lead the others to the second archway under the guise that we might as well determine if there was anything useful inside.

To my hidden delight, the way was as I vaguely remembered it being and completely clear-cut. I even lingered around pretending to study the ruins to give Solas time to notice one of his artifacts. His face positively giddy when its existence became felt.

I had my suspicions that the orbs did more than just 'strengthening the veil', especially since the anchor seemed to get excited whenever I touched one. However I knew that any inquiries would be met with partial truths and I would have to wait until he had no reason to hold information anymore to get anything concrete.

"I...think I feel a draft." Bull's voice sounding uncertain as it calls from a doorway. "Could be another exit perhaps?"

We trail behind him through semi-flooded corridors. Dwarven runes lighting our way as he leads us to an out-of-the-way room with a high vaulted ceiling. A singular, rickety ladder standing in the center shoots straight to the roof and disappears beyond. The fall undoubtedly fatal should the flimsy wood snap.

"Here. There is unquestionably a draft coming from above, Boss. Must be an alternate way out." Not even getting a chance to finish before Solas' magic weaves through the steps. Again Bull takes the risk first, confidently climbing and not once hesitating in his ascent.

Not particularly enthusiastic about this part of our route, I climb up after Cole and Sera. My pace closely resembling a snail's as I determinedly keep my eyes on the rungs above me. Bull's thick forearm unexpectedly juts from the landing when I reach the top, helping to pull me the rest of the way up.

It had deposited us in a vast hole. Scaffolding, ladders, and planks fashioned into bridges span the entire walls. Obliviously to be used as an easy means of coming and going from the dwarven ruins. The wood here was damp but not rotted, the flood waters having been limited to the caverns below, allowing for unaided scaling.

Broad walkways that hugged the rocky walls helped quite a bit to keep me moving at a more normal pace. The gated exit and it's lever soon within view as I trot the last wooden steps to the highest platform.

Solas' magical reprieve is short lived as Cole pulls the lever and the dense darkness of a tunnel beyond greet us. His staff once again flaring to light our way. Thankfully the passage isn't long, blindingly intense light pierces the black soon enough and my eyes start to water and squint the closer to the entrance we get.

"Balls, that's bright" Putting a hand over my eyes to get some relief.

Sealing the rift had ended the perpetual rain, only mud and puddles were left to tell the tale of the unnatural storm. Now clear skies and a warm sun beat down on us as we exited, signifying a return of normalcy within Crestwood.

Being out of the confining space of the caves and feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin has me overjoyed. In a show of excitement, I run out of the cavern entrance, spreading my arms out.

"WOO! FREEDOM!" Uncaring that I probably looked like a lunatic.

The hills and mud make for slick and uneven ground, my heel slipping yards from where I began. My feet fly out from under me, body landing with a big muddy splash as I flop down on my back. A hand raises to cover my face as I laugh at myself, completely embarrassed and able to feel the blush racing over my entire face.

"Boss, I never knew elves could be clumsy until I met you. I don't know how you have survived this long."

"Oh man! Nnhahaha! No grace at all! If you didn't have the ears, I'd swear you were a dwarf! No wait! That'd be an insult to dwarves, they can actually keep their footing!" Clutching her stomach as she laughs.

"No one saw that!" Still laying in the mud and chuckling.

"We saw that." I hear from everyone almost at once.

 

~

 

Fortuitous for us, the cave had dumped us out near the Inquisition's forward camp. After staying long enough to determine if they had heard from Harding about the fort, we ride with everyone's steed in tow to Crestwood village. Making only a small detour to speak with Command to which it told me I was a 'good little disciple' before misting away back to the Fade.

Fearing what we would uncover and being too much the coward to own his decision, the mayor had endeavored to escape multiple times after our departure. Too bad for him, Harding was good at her job and had caught and thwarted him each time. Finally realizing the futility of it, Dedrick had confessed what he had done.

It was to this that we rode into Crestwood Village.

Harding anxiously awaited our arrival and upon spotting our mounts, dashed to meet us. Briefly she described the events of old Crestwood's flooding and demise, along with the mayor's hand in it. To my companions seething anger, he had been unwilling to talk. Instead, Dedrick only quietly sobbed as he sat in his home.

"Mayor Dedrick. I would have believed you did it to save others, to save the masses. But your numerous attempts to flee like a coward and now these tears; I think you only did it because of fear. You cry because you were caught. If you had proudly stood before me and stated your story, I would have understood and I would have let you go. In your place I would have made the same choice. To save those I loved, I would have sacrificed the many." Disgusted and completely done with listening to his crying. I turn to Harding then, "give him to the villagers, they can determine if the death of their loved ones was worth their own lives. We'll see you at the old fort after."

As we rode out of the village, leaving Dedrick to the angry mob, Sera gazes intently at me and breaks the silence.

"You wouldn't actually kill innocent people would you?"

I twist in my saddle to meet her eyes, "yes, yes I would. I would do it without hesitation and I would feel no regret. That's the type of person that was chosen to be Inquisitor."

Sera's brow furrows as she mulls over my reply, her lips pursing and her eyes shifting to stare in-between her mount's ears.

No one else remarks or asks about my stance during the ride to the others; my response to Sera's question having answered where my loyalties lie.

 

~

 

By the time a handful of Inquisition scouts had come to relieve us from fort duty, dusk was falling and turning the rich greens and yellows of Crestwood valley to shades of soft pink. Considering the day we'd had and the what we had been able to accomplish, it was decided that resting the night at the fort wouldn't hurt.

With plans to wake early and gear nearby ready to go at a moment's notice, I drift to sleep and slip right into the Fade.

The room is just as it was in the waking world. Bed threadbare with a single tattered pillow. A writing desk lays toppled near a wall with chairs and shelves broken and scattered throughout the room.

Wondering if I would find Solas, I get out of bed and walk to the door.

 _"Da'elgara_. _"_ Turning when I hear Larry's familiar voice behind me.

An elf sits on the bed staring at me expectantly. A very naked elf.

 _"HO MY GOD! LARRY?! WHA-"_ Quickly averting my face and shutting my eyes. _"Larry...why are you naked? And why do you look like that?"_ Bubbled laughter springing up now that the initial shock of seeing an elf instead of a spirit had worn off.

"Your mind expressed a desire to see my face. I believed this would make you comfortable. When I took this form, this is how it came. Are clothes important?"

 _"Normally, I would say no, but we are not in that kind of relationship, Larry. So yes, clothes are important."_ Shaking my head with a smile.

"What am I expected to wear?" His voice sounding confused, like it was some great mystery.

 _"I don't know, Larry. Something like this?"_ Vaguely gesturing to myself.

There's a moment of silence and a subtle shifting of the air, then Larry's voice comes again. "Done, _da'elgara_."

Shifting my head towards the bed, I hesitantly pry an eye open. The sight that greets me has both snapping wide open and my mouth slack jawed. Stunned beyond words when I take an actual look at Larry.

"I hoped you would find this form pleasing." Face and eyes staring at me innocently and with tentative uncertainty.

_Well he hit the nail on the head with that one._

His form was certainly pleasing. Larry was definite eye candy no matter how one looked at him. Long locks the color of liquid mercury hang past his shoulders, strong angular features offset the feminine quality of his hair, and utterly unmistakable in their masculine edge. Plump luscious lips are the only thing that softens his appearance, their pouty look balancing the harshness.

For all of his bodacious hotness, it was his eyes that tipped the scales to drop-dead handsome. They were a color I had never seen and one I doubted I ever would again. Eyes of such intense emerald green focus entirely on me, that for a second, I think I forget to breathe.

Snapping my mouth closed and praying I hadn't just drooled, I clear my throat. _"You look fine, Larry."_

"It pleases you! You like it!" Beaming confidently.

 _"Yes..yes..."_ Sighing good-naturedly.

My eyes wander over Larry, taking all of him in when I notice something. My fingers raise to poke my forehead as I chuckle and try not to laugh uncontrollably.

_"Larry...are you wearing a bra?"_

His brow furrows as he gazes down at himself, "am I not expected to wear this? You said like you."

_"Haha, sorry, Larry, should have been more specific. Men don't wear titty halters."_

In a blink its gone and a shirtless elf of pure eye candy sits happily in front of me.

 _"I haven't seen you the past few days, is this why?"_ Insanely curious how long it took for him to come up with his appearance.

"No. Before you were with the wolf, you wanted his company and it made you happy. Then it was hard to find you again, the wolf has been covering you."

 _"Oh. Well you have my undivided attention now. Is there anything you wanted to chat about?"_ I had found that it was better to let Larry choose the topics in order to avoid any accidental bad memory trips. Though there were gaping holes in what I could piece together, it wasn't worth the potential twisting of his nature to fill them.

"They did not wish to fight, they only wanted to watch the children. To keep the world in balance. But the _others_ discovered their blood and what it could do for them. So much death for something that would have been freely offered. Then when they fought back, the _others_ needed more power to win. An _other_ found what they believed could conquer anything, but the price was steep. On a whim it fed it to them, and they changed. They became angry and wrathful. It made them hear what they shouldn't and drove them mad."

I listen to Larry's tale, tense and unwilling to so much as twitch for fear he would stop. I study his face for any sign that it was troubling him to talk about it. Other than an expression of deep concentration one would see on someone trying to remember a long forgotten recollection, he appeared fine.

 _"How did the_ other _get their power? What was it?"_ Taking a chance that it was okay to ask.

Deep green eyes shift away from me in the first act of reluctance I had ever seen from him. "Prisoners of the _others_ used it on them. They knew what it would cause. They wanted vengeance and knew the _others'_ greed would be their undoing."

My eyes squint at Larry, uncertain if I should press. I knew there was more than what he was telling.

 _I'm getting Solas déjà vu,_ I think with an inner eye roll.

 _"What was the person like me like? What did they name you?"_ Opting to err on the side of caution and letting the matter drop for now. Plus real souls popping into Thedas willy-nilly was kinda a big deal.               

Larry's eyes brighten with both intense happiness and sorrow as the memory of his friend surfaces. "He was light, he was purity. Fingers suited to hold brush and scroll. Days, months, he would joyously spend within; studying, learning, creating. Then she came to him, drawn to his radiance. She was the only thing that could draw him away."

_"And you? How did you find each other?"_

"I-I think I was made for her?" Frowning and tilting his head to the side. He closes his eyes, thinking for long moments before his shoulders sag in defeat and he looks at me. "I do not know, _da'elgara_."

_Tick one off my theory list._

_"What happened to them?"_ My voice soft and not sure it was a good idea to ask, having a feeling that things had ended badly.

His face crumbles in despair, hands clenching his knees tightly in a white knuckled grip. His mouth opening and closing soundlessly as if he has trouble finding the right words.

"Perhaps another time, _da'elgara_?" His head bowing and brow creasing as he fights not to break down.

 _"Another time, Larry."_ I agree with a gentle smile as I sit down next to him and place a hand on the top of his head, offering comfort.  

Neither of us say a word for minutes or possibly even hours, lost to our own musings. Even when I feel the stirrings of wakefulness, I remain silent. Giving only a tender pat of his head in farewell as my consciousness leaves him to his mourning.

 

~

 

We were starting to miss the constant storm as the sun mercilessly beat down on us and our day was being spent battling through bandit and templar infested hillsides. Sweat beaded at our brows and trailed down our temples as we rode, the sparse tree cover and infrequent airy breeze doing little to alleviate the heat.

Myself and the mages appeared to be in the best shape out of everyone however. My skimpy attire lessening the effects of the uncomfortable warmth while I had a sneaky suspicion our mages periodically chilled the atmosphere around themselves to stay cool.

Hooves sink and throw up mud as we leave the washed out road to continue hugging the rocky ridge, searching for the mystery smuggler cave. It was by doing this that we stumbled upon our target, its existence otherwise completely bypassed. The mountain curved inwards sharply into a sort of indention, lush thick foliage and boulders scattered throughout camouflaging an inconspicuous cavern entrance. If we had been farther away or come through from another direction, its presence would have remained unseen.

Our mounts dig in as they push up the incline and to a recognizable figure who strides forth at our approach.

"Been wondering when you guys would get here. By the sunny skies and lack of rotting things shambling about, I take it the rift is gone."

"Of course! The Thedas Police never fails. Where's your man?" Dismounting and leading my horse closer to the entrance.

Smirking, Hawke gestures behind him. "He's inside. Though maybe we should meet him alone first, he's a little jumpy still and does not know you."

With a shrug to my companions, I trail Hawke inside, leaving the others outside to wait.

The tunnel is well lit, Alistair or Hawke obliviously having set torches throughout to light the way as Hawke leads me to a wooden barrier and door. An emblem of solid black with a blindfolded white skull painted menacingly on the boards looms over me. Its purpose to intimidate or maybe serve as a marker of some sort.

Hawke knocks on the wood with an "incoming!" before unceremoniously throwing it open and stepping inside.

Condensation drips leisurely down the rough walls of the small chamber. Stalactites hang from the ceiling and jut from the ground, reaching up as if to hold the ones above. Old chests and weather worn tables stand against the far walls, furniture belonging to the previous inhabitants no doubt. Movement from the left draws my eye as a man steps from behind a mineral column. His face weary and showing the beginnings of laugh lines, though they did nothing to take away from his classic handsomeness.

Shyly he smiles, extending an arm in greeting. "I'm Alistair. It's an honor to meet you, although it would have been nicer if it were in better circumstances... and scenery." His other hand waving at our surroundings.

Taking the proffered arm with a firm and confident shake, "What? And miss the chance to play in dark and dingy caves? PAH!" Smiling and letting our hands drop. "Good to meet you, Alistair, call me Akira."

Alistair snorts in amusement. "Hmm yes, there is that." The laughter fades from his face, growing serious as he turns to the table he had vacated. "Hawke has filled me in on what's been happening. When he killed Corypheus the first time, the Wardens thought the matter resolved. Now that he has popped forth again, I feared he may have a power similar to an Archdemon. As everyone knows, Archdemons don't die from simple injuries."

He sighs and rubs his forehead tiredly, staring down at dozens of notes scattered across the table.

"So I began to investigate. I was only able to find hints but no solid evidence before every Warden in Orlais started to hear the Calling. It has the Wardens fearing of what will happen if they all died, who would be able to stop the next Blight?" Alistair turns back around and crosses his arms. "Warden-Commander Clarel proposed some...drastic things. Blood magic and such--to prevent the Blight before we're all gone. I protested--maybe too loudly, and Clarel sent guards. Now..here I am."

"Not to worry though, Alistair has a lead for us and it could get us some answers." Hawke cheerfully pipes in.

"Yes, well, there's no telling for certain it will get us anywhere but Wardens have been gathering in the Western Approach. There is an old Tevinter ritual tower that seems to hold particular interest to them. We should start there."

"Sounds good enough for me. Ready to meet the rest of Team Awesome?"

Alistair only blinks comically at me before shaking his head jokingly. "Sorry, thought I was listen to another Hawke for a moment. Right, yes, lead on."

He gathers a few items into a pack near the table, slinging it over a shoulder and lets us proceed him. The three of us walk in companionable silence through the tunnel to my waiting companions. The group idly sitting upon boulders or standing near the cave entrance, gazing out at the landscape as we exit.

Hawke studies our team and then shifts his focus to the land beyond, hands fisting at his hips. "Ever get the feeling something bad is going to happen?"

"Only every time you show up for something." Alistair jests as he moves to introduce himself to the others.


	26. Chapter 26

Our merry troupe halts for the night in our trek back to Skyhold for supplies, the arduous journey to the Western Approach making it a necessity. Hawke and Alistair sociably assemble around the campfire with the others, trading stories and jabs.

Laying on my stomach and using a blanket as a pillow to prop under my chin, I listen as Alistair tries to awkwardly speak with Cole.

"So...Cole was it? You're an actual spirit. Never met one that wasn't inside someone or not trying to have fun times in my brain."

"I have my own, why would I need yours?" Complete sincerity in his question.

"Uhhm..." expression saying he's lost on how to deal with Cole.

"Listen, he's a spirit of Compassion! How funny is that? Especially when you see him do his _poof!_ from behind thing and proceed to shank someone." Hawke announces gleefully.

"That's unexpected. Makes you wonder what you'd be if you were a spirit." Alistair muses thoughtfully.

"Ugh, you'd be something boring. Boring like...Honor or some such dullness. Me on the other hand, I would be something badass like Dominion, or Supremacy."

"Audacious would fit better." Varric chimes in with a smirk to his friend.

"Ouch, Varric. Ouch." Chuckling and crossing his arms while raising a finger to tap his chin. "Hmm, this is actually kinda fun." Hawke studies everyone in turn, thinking. "Sera, you're an easy one my little sprite. Levity. Varric, you are of course a weaver of tales so a Spirit of Narration if that even existed, or maybe Generosity, you're always helping people. It saddens me." Hawke teases.

Finger still tapping, his eyes narrow as he takes in the others. "Cassandra, my beauty, I see that shield within arm's reach -so Conviction? Vivienne..." He hesitates here, obviously debating if teasing her would be worth ice to the face. "If I say Diligence will I get hit? No? Alright then, Diligence it is. Let's see...let's see...my lovely Inquisitor, you would be-"

"Gawkiness!"--"Destruction!"--"Preposterousness!"--"Run!" Laughing uncontrollably into my blanket as suggestions ring out.

When the hoots and giggles died down, Hawke continues, "it appears you embody many qualities, Inquisitor. Then-"

"Peerless power, stronger than all but easily crushed. Capable of great salvation or desolation, theirs to decide. Will." Cole's eyes meeting mine from beneath the brim of his hat.

"At least Cole gave me a nice spirit comparison. And who said 'run!'? That's a verb!" Hoping to divert attention from Cole's insight.

"Too true! Leave the naming to the experts!" Putting his palms out in a halting gesture. "Now Dorian, you're all shinny and glittery, but I see you...Daring perhaps? Courage? Blackwall, well, I have no idea what to name you. How about Humility? You're boring like Alistair, you both can go sit in the dull corner together." Boos and hisses jokingly interrupting his proclamation.

Smirking, Hawke looks to the last of our group. "Two more huh." He rubs his hands together, shifting his gaze between the two. "The Bull, I can't quite decide for you. Purpose? Loyalty? Passion? You look like you could snap me like a twig, so you just take your pick. And Solas...our haughty, Elven apostate..." My face is practically splitting from my shit eating grin as I look over to Solas, knowing that Hawke was going to fuck with him.

Solas meets Hawke's gaze, an eyebrow quirking as he waits to see what spirit he would be assigned.

"Superiority? Cheekiness? No? Hmm...how about spirit of Monotony? Tediousness? Old? I know, I know, I lost it on the last one. Sera yelling, 'run!' threw me."

His lips press together in irritation at Hawke's joke. The expression of displeasure on Solas' face at getting assigned those choices has me burying my head again. Laughing so hard that tears came to my eyes.

"Varric was on the right path, Champion. Though, perhaps Narcissism or Fatuousness would better suit you?" His tone holding nothing but cordial politeness.

 _Oh my god! The snark! So hot!_ Still giggling hysterically from my corner.

"I _am_ quite pretty. Thank you for noticing, Solas." Taking the jab and giving Solas a playful wink.

It earns him an eye roll and seems to set the mood for the remainder of the night. Jests, barbs, and tall-tales flowing freely as the team bonds with our newest addition.

 

~

 

Our mounts passed under Skyhold's massive iron gates late the previous night. The brief reprieve from travel only two days then we would depart to uncover the mystery surrounding the Grey Wardens. Two days for provisions to be packed and for me to get some sort of idea of how to handle Spirit Blade.

Early morning finds me marching to meet Commander Helaine, single-minded focus and determination in each step. Josephine materializes from her office, halting me when I enter the grand hall.

"Inquisitor, a moment. You have been gone for days and certain matters requiring your attention have arisen."

"All right, lay it on me."

"Firstly the Duke of..." My enthusiasm takes a nose dive when it quickly becomes apparent that the 'matters' were political in nature and the boring nobility lesson was swiftly putting me to sleep on my feet.

"Josephine." Interrupting her long list of douche bags who wanted to meet me in order to get even greater status. "Use your best judgment on the nobles, I'm leaving that to you. If there is someone that you feel I must take the time to sit down with, then so be it. Otherwise send someone else or do whatever it is you believe is warranted. Now, is there anything else? That doesn't entail nobles or meetings." I hastily clarify.

She hesitates, biting on her lower lip and appearing to consider her words carefully.

"There has been some...news." Josephine takes a breath then presses on. "Leliana has kept tabs on Clan Lavellan. She thought you might want to know how they have been faring since your absence. Reports coming back from the Free Marches are not encouraging. Bandits have been harassing Clan Lavellan, pushing them back to Wycome. We thought you should be informed and are ready to do what you think is necessary."

"Nothing. We do nothing. It's not important."

I did not know who they were, and logically, they wouldn't know who I was either. Maybe they had sent someone from the clan but they had been waylaid or killed. Or maybe I had some sort of made up back-story here and I actually had been 'sent' to the Conclave. Either way, there was no reason to take a chance.

My emotionless response is clearly unexpected as Josephine stares at me in stunned silence.

Collecting herself, she clears her throat, all business once again. "Very well, Inquisitor. Then that is all I need from you right now."

"See you later then, Josephine, I'll be with Helaine if you need me."

"Good day, Inquisitor." Bobbing her head in farewell and spinning to retreat back into her office.

I hadn't actually thought about Clan Lavellan and the repercussions of their existence for me, having had other, more important things on my mind. Though now that I thought about it, maybe they should have been something I had taken care of earlier. A word from them about me could completely start a shit storm.

Rubbing my neck and sighing, I head out to join Commander. I would just have to cross my fingers that Clan Lavellan met an untimely end without any notes or last words making their way to Skyhold. Otherwise I would have to roll the dice with Solas before I was ready.

 _Diligence indeed._ I think to myself when I spot Vivienne already practicing with Helaine outside Skyhold's gates.

"Recruit. I hear you have become quite proficient with Fade Step. Though it sounds as if you continue to overpower it, we shall work on your control."

"Commander, I was wondering if perhaps you would show me where I'm going wrong with Spirit Blade instead. I can continue to practice Fade Step by myself, but I can't do that with Spirit Blade. We're only here for two days before we're off again and I want to train on the road. As it is, it's too dangerous to do even that."

"Of course it is, Recruit! You're forging a bomb, not a blade. You have only been creating the appearance of a weapon, not actually making one. Magic must be given physical representation throughout, not just the outer shell."

In increments a dagger emerges, its creation forming in stages for my benefit. Commander manifests another upon the completion of the first, without pausing or slowing, merely wills it into being. "The hardest and most technical aspect is its formation and the holding of it. Once it is achieved, its weight is a simple matter to adjust according to the wielder's desire. Now concentrate, Recruit. Make only the blade, we will worry about its power and heft later."

All day I spent slowly, _very_ fucking slowly, materializing blades. Weaving magic over magic to gradually form a weapon. The process so painstaking that beads of sweat trailed down my face and body even though I sat cross-legged upon the snow. When asked why my weapon always came out large or stupid heavy -hence the sitting- Commander would candidly reply, "magic freely heeds your call. You have not learned to control it."

While I was stuck figuring out Spirit Blade, Vivienne was doing circles around me.

Quite literally.

Her body hazing and misting into what looked like nonexistence only to pop back into view somewhere else. As the day wore on, Vivienne's transition from visible to camouflaged became more fluid, taking less time to switch from one to the other. Her aim she said, to be able to perform the skill in the blink of an eye by the time of our departure.

At the rate she was going, Vivienne would accomplish her goal. And I was more than a little jealous of the ease with which she was picking up the abilities.

Feeling slightly frustrated at my progress, but knowing that everything takes time to learn, I leave our improvised practice area to bathe. Our lesson for the day ended and I wanted to at least smell decent when I went to bother Solas.

 

~

 

My eyes wander the walls of the rotunda when I enter. Taking in the vivid colors and the sole completed mural next to the doorway leading to the library above. With a hop, I sit upon the central table, looking over all the still bare wall space.

_How did he finish it before? Did the Inquisitor never take him anywhere or is the timeline for me rushed in some way?_

I muse, trying to figure out how on earth Solas was going to complete everything. If things kept the current pace, I did not see how it was possible unless I left him here. And that was wasn't something I planned on doing.

"My presence has not become tiresome?" Tone teasing as he pauses in lightly sketching an outline for the next mural.

"Nope. 'Specially when its facing away so I get a nice view." Grinning and swinging my legs as I watch red tip his ears.

Keeping his back turned to me, he subtly clears his throat and proceeds in his work.

"News of the Wardens utilizing blood magic is troubling. Where blood magic is not inherently evil -as it is merely a tool, fear of the Calling appears to be driving their actions. It's imperative we determine what purpose they are using it for."

"Would you use blood magic?" Putting my hands behind me and leaning back.

His arm drops and he turns to me. "As I said, blood magic is only a tool. Magic is magic, just as water is water. Though the price of using such magic is different. It interferes with a mage's connection with the Fade."

_Completely didn't answer the question, my man._

"Something to immortalize our journey?" Jutting my chin at the mural and letting him get away with his diversion.

"Yes. This is your fortress, it is to represent your actions. Unfortunately progress is slow as we have not stayed still for long."

"Does that bother you? Traveling with everyone nonstop?" Genuinely curious how he was taking it.

Sauntering strides bring Solas to stand by the table. Placing his chalk down, he lifts a rag to wipe his fingers. "In the beginning it was slightly disconcerting, it has been a long time since I have had constant company. I have found the experience has been...not unpleasant."

"I'm happy we keep you entertained then." Smiling at his admission. "So you like it now?"

He turns to half-lean, half-sit next to me, studying his work. "I did not expect to, but yes. You have gathered a remarkable group. It is a feat you should be proud of."

"Hmm." A hum of agreement as I continue to swing my legs.

"And how have you found it? Moving from one situation to another, not staying in one place for long."

"If you take out everything wanting to kill you -it's pretty fun."

"I imagine sleeping on the ground each night took getting used to."

_Ho, sneaky..._

Quirking an eyebrow in challenge as he gazed at me innocently, "just like being out of dreaming must have been for you."

There's only the barest hint of a crack in his facade at my reply. His eyes tensing and narrowing a fraction, a fact I would have missed if I hadn't spent so much time studying him. I can see he was trying to determine how to take my response, framed in such a way that I could just as easily be commenting on his love to dream so he could be in the Fade.

Solas tilts his head to the side, observing my face intensely. "I heard Leliana has found your clan. They appear to be in dire straits."

_Did you hear that from one of the advisors or one of your spies?_

"Bandits are a normal occurrence, there's no reason to think they can't handle them."

"Yet, they are your clansmen. Are you not concerned for their welfare?" Eyes completely focused on spotting the slightest betrayal of emotion. Waiting to catch any slip I may make.

"You assume I was close with them. Not everyone likes where they come from." Taking a page from his book.

"Do you dislike the Dalish? Your face bears the symbol of your devotion." Tracing the midnight blue Sylaise tattoo over my left eye with a telling glance.

Leaning my head back to stare above us, "I wasn't given a choice in that regard." I state dryly.

"You were forced to wear it?" The touch of fury in his tone brings my attention back to Solas. His expression one of righteous anger on my behalf.

"I'm used to it now. I just think of it as a pretty decoration." Secretly giddy that he was mad for me, I sit upright and shift my body to be closer to his.

The crease of his brows does not smooth at my response, his eyes lingering on my Vallaslin. Solas straightens, moving closer, mouth opening to speak.

"My dear, if you insist on joining me in the morning, I suggest you get some sleep." Vivienne states from the doorway. Not waiting to hear me, she continues through on her way to the library.

Making a raspberry sound, I hop down from the table. "Ah, that's right. Guess I'll let you get back to it. Your joining us for a celebratory drink in the Grand Hall tomorrow night right? Our last night of fun before we're gone again for weeks."

"Perhaps." Face still serious and looking like he wanted to say something.

"Pah! You're coming. Otherwise I will hunt you down and drag you to it." Grinning when amusement replaces his somber expression.

"Ah, with a threat such as that, how could I refuse? Goodnight, Akira." Eyes bright and a smirk playing across his face.

"Night, Solas." Reluctantly leaving him to his paints and plaster to find my bed.

 

~

 

 _"Clothes, Larry...clothes."_ Chuckling and shaking my head at finding a once again naked elf greeting me when I pop into the Fade.

It brings forth memories of Varric trying to explain shoelaces to Cole when he was puzzling over why they wouldn't listen to him.

 _Must be a spirit thing._ I think with wry humor.

Subtle shifting of air nearby indicates I can return my gaze to Larry. His attire the same as before, black cargo pants and knee high boots his only cover.

" _Da'elgara,_ I can help with your worry." Sitting on the bed with me and looking eager.

 _"My worry?"_ Incredibly confused on which one. I had a butt ton to choose from.

"Clan Lavellan. You desire for them to fall, I could ensure they do."

Looking at his face, I see the same expression Cole gave when he asked if someone should be killed to save them. All honest sincerity and misguided intentions.

I sigh, wondering if maybe I was influencing him and if it was a bad thing. _"No, Larry. It's alright. Just let that go. Whatever happens, happens."_

"Oh." Shoulders droop and his expression turns crestfallen.

_"Would you like to help with something else?"_

"Yes!" Brightening immediately and already forgetting his disappointment.

_"Can you show me how to save a spirit?"_

Beautiful silvery locks sway as Larry tilts his head, bewilderment coming to his emerald eyes as Larry delves into my thoughts to search for clarification.

"Oh!" Expression clearing in understanding when he finds the answer. "Without the Veil it could be done by anyone strong enough but as the Waking is now, none can perform it. It will only be possible because of what you are, and it will be very dangerous for you. Do you still wish to know?"

I hesitate, mulling it over for long seconds. Then resolutely I nod my head. _"Yes. I need the insurance."_

Face softening as he gently gazes at me. "Understood, _da'elgara_."

 

~

 

Scoffing that she could find better things to do with her precious time, I leave Vivienne to soak in the bathing pools after our long practice. Intending to put away my sweaty clothes before joining everyone in the hall.

Trotting swiftly up the stairs to my room, I dump everything on a chest and after a second of contemplation, I throw off my ever-present gloves, having no need for them currently.

The Grand Hall is already filled with raucous laughter when I enter. A long table had been dragged to sit comfortably before the hearth, mugs and steins littering the surface within easy reach of seeking hands. Servants inconspicuously darted to and fro to place refilled pitchers of alcohol, keeping the booze from running dry.

"VISHANTE KAFFAS! BLEH! What is this swill? Did we import this from a bog?"

"I've got the good stuff in my room. Makes your chest burn and your whole body tingle. Come up with me and I'll let you try it."

"Are you attempting to lure me to your room?! Take advantage of my purity? I won't fall for such blatant trickery." Not appearing in the least serious.

"Just saying my door is always open." Smirking and chuckling mischievously at Dorian.

"That's because you don't lock it like a savage!"

Smiling at Iron Bull and Dorian's flirtation, I settle myself at the table to join everyone. Noticing that Solas had yet to make an appearance.

Grabbing the mug in front of me, I take a drink. Scrunching my nose in complete disgust when I do.

_UGH! Fuck, Dorian was not joking._

Pinching my nose, I force myself to chug it down, making it my contribution for the night and deciding to stick to water afterwards.

"Nnhhhahaha. How's your mead, Bull? Feeling pretty good?" Sera maniacally cackles to as she looks over at Iron Bull.

"Oh, you mean the mead I switched back after I noticed you put something in mine? Very nice actually."

"Wait. What?!" Expression flabbergasted at being caught.

"What did you put in there anyway? You should know, I'm resilient to most poisons."

"What? Poison?! NO! You were bragging about how much you could drink so I added a little somethin' to give it a boost." Eyes suspiciously gazing at her mug.

"That's yours? Oh uhh...Uh oh." Glancing over the table to find the drugged drink.

"Yeah. This isn't it?" Picking up her cup and swishing it around.

"Actually that one's mine, my little sprite. It's like we've shared a kiss." Hawke jests with an exaggerated lip pucker at Sera.

"Wait. Where's the cup then?" Bull and Sera both eyeing all the mugs warily in our vicinity.

"This tastes fucking awful." I mumble, sticking my tongue out when I finished my drink.

"Oh. Oh shit..."

"NNNHHAHHAA!"

"Hup! Your Inquisitor's going to be tripping balls soon." Hawke jovially announces.

"Huh? What are you talking about? It's just one drink, I won't get drunk off one." I scoff.

"Umm, Boss. That one had something in it. It's going to pack a punch."

"PAH! I feel fine! I'm no lightweight!" I triumphantly state.

"Hawke, did you drug our Inquisitor? Can't we ever have a normal party with you?" Shaking his head in mock disappointment as he moves down to join us.

"It wasn't me this time, Varric! Honest!"

Excitement and ecstatic energy fill me as I sit with everyone. The inner circle happily drinking together and joking companionable with each other making me overjoyed. Unable to contain the excess energy demanding an outlet any longer, I jump up from my seat.

Raising my hands in the air above me I run down the hall joyfully yelling, "COME ON, DREAD WOLF TAKE ME!! WOO!!!"

"Inky's gone!" --"UHP! Well, your Inquisitor's lost it!" -- "Andraste's dimpled ass cheeks...I just know the Seeker is going to blame me for this."

Hoots and roars of laughter following me as I run back to the table to drape myself over my companions.

"Ya'll are the best!" Giggling blissfully as I'm tolerantly patted good-naturedly. My eyes shift over to the rotunda archway just as I see a welcome figure enter the hall.

"Solas! Yay!" Practically bouncing away to go to him.

"Chuckles, you poor bastard! You picked the wrong time to pop in!" Varric calls over as he laughs devilishly.

Solas' steps slow as he looks over at Varric in confusion, his brow creasing in a frown.

"Solas! You came!" Smiling like a lunatic as I come to a stop and gaze up at him. My eyes wander dreamily over his face and body. "I like that sweater and those pants. But they would look better on my floor."

"Wha-" Red blooming almost immediately on his cheeks as his eyes widen.

"Your shirt has to go, but you can stay." Trying to clarify.

Solas clears his throat, looking over at the attentive audience behind us. "Perhaps this is a discussion better held-"

"You like sleeping, I do too! Let's do it together!" Providing Solas with a perfectly legitimate argument.

Giving me a calculating eye, "have you been drinking?"

"No. I only had one. And your body is seventy-five percent water, and I'm thirsty~" gaze drifting to those pretty come-hither lips. "Want to know my favorite beverage? Mount. And Do."

"That...well." Swallowing, an expression of being lost for words crossing his face.

_This isn't working. Is it too muddled? Maybe I'm too confusing? Not straight forward enough?_

Brain seizing on a wonderful idea, I smile victoriously.

Grasping a fistful of tunic with one hand and the back of his head with the other, I tug him down. His lips part in surprise at my pull, giving me the opening I needed.

Buttery softness slides over my lips in an electrifying tingle that left me wanting more. With a hungry glide over his mouth I tighten my hold and press myself more firmly against him. Pulling away, I bite lightly on his lower lip, demanding compliance. In a gasp his lips part, and my tongue moves to take advantage, wanting to taste, to savor; once, twice. Becoming a greedy dance when hands grip my waist, bending, maneuvering me to where he desired as the seductive heat of his tongue twines with mine in a bid for dominance.

It's over all to soon as he breaks away, hoots and catcalls ringing throughout the grand hall as our backdrop. Frustrated, I try to drag him back. But his hands on my shoulders halt me.

"Now is no-" His words cut off by my seizing him around his waist.

Unsuccessfully I try to lift him, his body only raising up a tiny fraction while Solas covers his mouth and looks away as his shoulders shake with suppressed laughter at my flailing attempts to drag him away.

He puts a hand on my shoulder in a placating manner, smirking with amusement. "We can ta-"

Clutching his arm, I dig my shoulder into his stomach and hook a forearm between his legs. Hefting him across my shoulders in a fireman's carry. I may not have the arm strength, but I certainly had the leg power.

Determinedly I take struggling steps towards my room, the mirth behind growing louder at my actions.

"Boss! Want me to carry him for you?" Bull shouts over the hearty laughter.

Instantly stopping at the stupendous suggestion and turning with ecstatic expectancy, "Yes! Thank you!"

"NO!" Solas bellows, sounding absolutely horrified by the idea.

Chuckling, Varric moves to my side, taking pity on Solas. "Glow Bait, let poor Chuckles down. How about enjoying the evening first and then you can unwillingly whisk him away?" At the expression of vehement refusal on my face, Varric presses his lips together to keep from exploding into laughter. "It's to see Hawke and Alistair have a good time. Come join us for a little while."

With a huff, I reluctantly put Solas down. His sigh of relief audible as he adjusts his clothes, a blush covering his cheeks and tipping his ears.

"Told you, Chuckles." Shaking his head in amusement and leading me back to the table.

"Next time I will heed the warning." Solas replies in a deadpan tone.


	27. Chapter 27

Scraping and shuffling nudges me awake, the noise feeling like it was drilling into my skull with a jackhammer. With a mighty groan I lift my head from the bed and pry my eyes open. Hissing when the light viciously jabs into my retinas, I quickly shut them again.

There's a loud thud of a body hitting the floor, promptly succeeded by, "f-forgive me, your Worship! Forgive me! I-I was only taking your gear down for you."

"Ughh...feel terrible...you're fine, I don't care what you do." Mouth feeling like I had taken to stuffing it with cotton balls as I cover my head with a pillow.

"Umm...T-the others are already gathering, my lady..." The servant hesitantly states.

"Fuck..."

Slowly uncovering myself and gingerly crawling out of bed, I barely crack an eye open in order to see what I'm doing as I collect some fresh clothes to wear. Clumsily I dress in my Qunari style attire and pull my hood up in an attempt to provide relief to sensitive eyes. Tugging on gloves and boots, I grab my trench coat and fumble my way down the stairs.

Halfway through the Grand Hall I halt, blinking owlishly for long seconds as I stare at the archway leading to the steep steps to the courtyard below.

_Bad. That's probably a bad idea._

Swaying and stumbling as I pivot, I head to the servant stairwell that would take me through the kitchens and pop me out near the stables.

"Fucking shit that's bright!" Wincing and groaning when I step out and into the sun outside the kitchens. Throwing my coat over my head, I keep my eyes down and take staggering, weaving strides to the gatehouse.

"HAHA! You alright, Boss? You're not walking straight and you came from the stables." Sounding way too happy and entirely too bloody sober.

Looking up, I stumble around in a clumsy turn, "that wasn't straight? Shit." Swaying on my feet as I blink in the direction I had come from.

"Varric, what did you allow Hawke to do to the Inquisitor?! She can barely stand!" Tone saying she was absolutely furious.

"She's fine, Seeker, just a little hung-over...or a lot." A disgusted noise coming from Cassandra was his only reply.

I totter over to the courtyard stairs, making it a point to plop unceremoniously down and taking a seat with Sera and Blackwall. All three of us hanging our heads as we wait for the rest of our group.

"I did nothing, my lovely Seeker!" Hawke booms from above while three simultaneous pained moans come from the members on the stairs. "Inquisitor, enjoy yourself last night? How do you feel?" Still talking an octave too loud and making each of us on the stairs wince.

"Death would be a sweat release..." I groan from my spot, holding my head.

"Champion, perhaps a softer touch for now?" Clear irritation in his tone as he addresses Hawke. Wrapped feet appear in my line of vision, then Solas was crouching down in front of me before a hand gently pressed on my knee. "Take this, It will help." He says softly.

Lifting my coat enough to see him and squinting from the brightness, I take the proffered pill. "Thank you." Popping it in my mouth and giving a revolted shudder when I bite down.

"Getting the leader of a multinational organization trashed is a new one I must say. Though, I haven't felt this hung-over since traveling with Oghren." Alistair moans from nearby, his hand rubbing his eyes.

"Half our company is debilitated. Yes, well done, Sir Hawke, on suggesting such an endeavor on the eve of our departure." Vivienne coldly jeers.

"You missed the show the Inquisitor gave us. It was well worth it." Smirking in absolute glee and wiggling his eyebrows.

At that, I look over to Hawke. "Shit...What did I blow up? Hurry, let's get the hell out of here before Josephine finds out." Staggering to my feet and swaying, forcing Solas to grab my elbows to steady me.

"Do you not remember?" Striking grey-blues search my face intently as the grip on my elbows tightens the barest fraction.

"No. Did I break something important?" My eyebrows coming together in a perplexed frown.

"No, nothing." He quickly amends; too quickly. Face smoothing into a nonchalant mask as his hands release me but his presence doesn't draw away.

The instant snickers and snorts coming from my teammates at his reply has me eyeing Solas suspiciously.

"Only someone's pride..." Muffled chortles and quieted giggles follow the mumbled comment. Solas' cheeks darken and his eyes shift to look anywhere but at me. The suspicion growing at the expression of embarrassment on his face.

"We should depart. Are you well enough to ride?" Solas pointedly announces in an attempt to distract and divert attention from himself.

"Yes..." Squinting my eyes at him to show that I knew something was afoot.

_Must have been expensive...or big._

Ungainly I stagger my way to my mount with Solas walking beside to offer assistance. Reaching up to grip the saddle, I sloppily try to place a foot in the stirrups. Misjudging the distance and missing it twice before Solas bends and does it for me. With a surprising show of strength; though admittedly probably not since I was basically half his size; he lifts me effortlessly onto the saddle.

Gracelessly I settle in as Solas reluctantly moves to find his own mount with a worried glance at my terrible coordination.

"So sorry if I vomit on you horsie..." Giving my steed a gentle pat on the neck as she sedately follows the others out of the bailey.

 

~

 

Per my orders, our group had taken a more indirect path to the Western Approach. Choosing to pass through the Exalted Plains on the way. Our company was breaking for a mid-day rest while the scouts who had traveled with us went about locating the Dalish encampment that was supposedly in the area. When I sent out the scouts to search for the Dalish, Alistair had grown increasingly concerned with the delay.

"Inquisitor, are you sure we should be taking the time to find some Dalish clan? I doubt the Warden's will pause whatever their up too so we can take a detour." Alistair shakes his head, looking over at Hawke. "We should keep going."

"Inquisitor? That alright with you?" He asks in a rare show of seriousness.

"Yeah, that's fine. We shouldn't be far behind but if you're that worried then it's better to split into two groups. Harding will already be there so she can help you until we get there."

"Let's finish our meal then and we'll be on our way. Good enough for you, my friend?"

"Yes." Expelling a relieved sigh at the news.

"You must be happy to find the Dalish out here to take the time to wait for a report on them." Hawke idly muses as he stretches out across from me and crosses his ankles.

"Something like that." Giving him a secretive smirk.

"Mm." Hawke hums as he studies me.

I ignore his probing look, instead once again shifting my gaze discreetly to Solas. Searching for any hint of anxiousness or distress in his face. There is only serene contentment as he sits with Cole, heads bent together in delighted discussion.

My eyes continue to roam over the area, not wanting to draw attention to the fact I was solely interested in Solas. The team was scattered throughout the outcropping of small boulders and rubble from the ruins we currently found ourselves resting in.

Giant stone arches similar to roman architecture bridge the short mountains around us. Their purpose uncertain as there were no ruins of temples or other type buildings within sight. Grass typically found in prairies grows throughout the ruin and along the hard packed road, indicating we would soon leave the rocky hills behind. Faintly a smell of char and smoke wafts through the air, its origin a worrying mystery to the others as we had yet to make it past the outskirts of the Exalted Plains.

Vaguely I hear Vivienne's disapproving voice as she speaks to Blackwall behind me, dragging my focus from the landscape and to her words.

"-the poor dear. Being faced with skulking eyes and shadowed steps wherever she goes." I move to sit cross-legged on the boulder I had been leaning against, facing them so I could listen in.

"I am not stalking the Lady Josephine. I was merely offering a token of--of appreciation for all that she does."

"Ah yes, the fabled flowers...Tell me, does their delivery also require lurking behind pillars and staring creepily from afar?" Vivienne snidely asks.

"Aw, come on, Blackwall! Just get in there and grab your woman! Between the lot of us, you would have the ultimate wooing attack plan. Varric can help with what to say so you're not weirding her out, Bull has your naughty tricks," I wink and pistol shoot Bull when he gives a 'here here' at that, "Sera knows her way around a lady, so double covered in the sexy times department."

"Yeah! All I need is a ripe peach and I can show you how to make it _real_ ripe." Sera giggles gleefully from her own boulder.

"No! No, thank you. The Lady Josephine and I are fine as we are. With her station and upbringing, she deserves better than what I could provide."

"What?! That's poop! Who gives a fuck about those things? Money and power are easily attained and there is an abundance of it. You can always get it. True happiness on the other hand is not. When you find it, you grab it by the short hairs, Blackwall!"

"Yeah! Grab her by the short hairs, Blackwall!" Hawke enthusiastically chimes in as he moves to prop a hip against my rock.

Blackwall chuckles with a shake of his head at the two of us. "No offense, but I think I'm better off not taking relationship advice from the two of you. Hauling someone off like a prize while in a drunken stupor isn't the most romantic idea."

"AHAHAH! You did that, Hawke? To who?" Laughing at the mental picture it brings.

"Oh, that wasn't me who did it." His grin spreading wide amidst the mischievous snickers and snorts filling our little camp.

"Say what? _Pfft_." Waving my hand dismissively at him.

Sera giggle-snorts hysterically as she points to me. "You tried to drag the Elfy Breeches over there after layin' one on 'im!"

Hand stalling in mid-air, pointer finger up in preparation to give a reply as my mouth hangs open. "Eeee..." Completely speechless, and the only sound that comes out.

It sounded exactly like something my brain would think was a wonderful idea.

"Well, call me Andraste's uncle! Glow Bait is actually at a loss for words. That's unprecedented."

"It was a lapse in judgment. It was not worth mentioning." Solas pointedly states over the mirth. It felt like I had been slapped while my heart seemed to squeeze from the unexpected rejection. I know I wasn't able to completely wipe away the expression of upset disappointment either as I sat in stunned silence.

"Whoa! Ouch, my man! That was harsh. Way to openly smack her down." Hawke jibes in an exaggerated grimace.

"I did no-"

"No, you really did. 'Lapse in judgment', 'don't mention it'." He mimics in an irked voice.

Features scrunched into a snarl, "Shut. Up." before Solas shifts his attention to me, and with an expression smoothing somewhat, "it was n-"

"My Lady! We have news!" Charter hails as she and another scout stride from an animal trail to join us.

"Thank you God! You have excellent timing, Charter." Twisting around in relief to watch their approach.

"Inquisitor?" Confusion making her steps falter.

"It's nothing. You guys find the Dalish?" Trying to keep my voice and face neutral. Focusing on the matter at hand and not the very public turn down so I didn't embarrass myself.

"Yes, your Worship. They have set up camp near the river, close to Elven ruins. The path beyond should eventually take you to them." Gesturing to the narrow track they had come from. "There's something else, my Lady, the region is in the middle of a civil war and very volatile. Some rebels calling themselves the Freemen of the Dales are adding to the turmoil. On another front, undead and rifts are emerging, pushing the Orlesian troops back to their forts and leaving the area unprotected."

"This is a problem. We cannot just depart and let things lie, Inquisitor. These people need our help, the region must be stabilized."

 _Whoop whoop, here comes the Thedas Police._ Releasing an inner sigh at the plea in her eyes.

"Cassandra, I know you feel adamant about aiding the soldiers, but that entails spending more time here and delaying the Grey Warden issue longer than is probably safe. I won't do that. However, we likely don't need all of us to investigate them. Hawke and Alistair plan to go ahead of us and they can get a feel for the situation before we get there. That leaves eight team members for you to choose from. You can lead a squad to see what can be done here and join us in the Western Approach when you're done."

"Thank you, Inquisitor." Cassandra acknowledges with a proud grin.

"Charter, you and your scouts are with Cassandra. Let's get our groups decided and head out of here." Rubbing my neck wearily, I hop down from my perch and move to my mount. Allowing Cassandra to choose whomever she wanted.

Checking my saddle and gear, I glance behind when I feel a presence at my back.

"A word?"

Raising an eyebrow, I turn to face him fully, wondering what else he would like to pile on.

"Solas. Will you be coming with us?" Cassandra inquires from amidst her team, cutting off whatever Solas had been about to say.

He drags his gaze from me to fall on Cassandra, "My knowledge and skills may better serve the Inquisitor in her dealings with the Dalish. Perhaps since the undead are involved, Dorian would be a satisfactory replacement?"

I don't get to hear her reply as Hawke and Alistair step into my line of sight and take my attention away.

"We are heading out, Inquisitor. Anything you need from us before we go?"

"Maybe a rebound tussle?" Hawke jests with a fluttering of lashes.

Ignoring the subtle shift of a body next to me, I snort, "I'm going to have to pass on that one. Will you two be alright by yourselves? The scouts or one of the others can join you."

"It will be safe enough. Two lone travelers will draw less attention anyway. May you go with the Maker's blessing, Herald." Bowing his head to me in cordial farewell and bodily hauling Hawke away with him.

Crossing my arms, I pivot to look up at a slightly closer Solas.

His eyes slide over my face for a moment, lips parting to say something before they shut again as he thinks better of it. Instead he sighs and meets my gaze. "This is neither the time nor the place for such a discussion. When-"

_Are you fucking kidding me?_

"Ugh!" Spinning and grabbing the reins of my steed, I yell over my shoulder as I march away, "Inquisitor team, we're going!" There's a vehement curse behind me then the sound of hurried footfalls heeding my order.

_Will not kick him in the shin...will not kick him in the shin..._

Incredibly hurt and frustrated, I can't help the angry edge to my strides or the tensing of my jaw to keep the tears at bay.

The animal trail was well used, it's path worn and easily followed. Rocky rises surround on all sides as the route takes us farther into hilly terrain. Colossal trees with thick gnarled roots create a vast canopy for us to travel under as fog lazily drifts between the wood. The tranquil beauty of the area wasted on me as I pass through absently and uncaring. Never even noticing when our earthen path was interrupted at intervals with smooth stone slabs, almost as though they were part of an actual road.

"Red faced, embarrassed. Uncertain of what she has done wrong. Wanting onl-"

 _COLE! PLEASE!_ Mentally cutting him off while wishing a rift would open and suck me up.

"Poorly handled, Chuckles. Hurry and apologize." I hear Varric murmur in the silence.

"I'm right here! Everyone drop it!" Left eye starting to twitch as I mumble under my breath, "Swear to god I need to punch something..."

A desperate shout answers my prayer, startling us and making us peer ahead. "SHOW NO QUARTER! PUSH THEM BACK!"

"Fuck yeah!" Leading my horse into a trot beside me, thankful for the reprieve and excuse to do something.

Stone slabs become more frequent as we jog up a slight incline. Towering statues of archers loom ahead and appear to guard the rocky pass. Three warriors stand in a loose semi-circle back-to-back fighting for their lives against corpses and a Rage demon.

At the sight of the blazing creature my enthusiasm plummets, remembering my last encounter with one.

"HELP!" Spotting our advance.

"Balls..." With a _tsk_ , I drop the reins and multi-Fade Step to get to them.

Phasing right next to a Shambler, I force punch it straight in the face, throwing my weight behind it.

 _"KA-POW! RIGHT IN THE KISSER!"_ Fade Stepping to pivot into a round house and kicking another to clear a path for the warriors. "Run! Get to my team!"

Hastily they move to follow my order, magic and bolts rocketing past to provide them with cover as they do. Vaguely realizing the warriors were Dalish by their ears and facial tattoos.

The acrid smell of burning foliage and heat precede Rage as it slithers over the ground to its new target. Spears of energy form at both hands and are quickly hurled one after the other as green smoke wafts behind Rage. It falters as magic pierces it in fast procession, daggers swiftly following suit to slash its flank.

A rumbled roar comes from it at the double assault. Its blazing body twisting to widely swing its arm like a pendulum at Cole. Lighting fast he glides away as potent Spirit energy slams into its face when Cole is clear. In apparent pain it clutches its head, shaking violently as its torso starts to swell and expand, Rage's body becoming a mini bomb in its death thrones.

"Shit!" Fade Stepping to a large boulder in direct line of sight. With a mighty fear induced jump, I use my hands to vault over and take cover just as a current of blazing doom sweeps over the immediate area.

Feeling like I had been sunburned, I pop up and scan the vicinity, noting it was clear. The remaining Shamblers gone, having been caught in the blast.

Shining, glittering blue fades from Blackwall as he unfurls from his knelt position behind his shield. By the looks of stunned surprise on the Dalish faces, they had not expected the explosion. Prompting Blackwall to take a protective stance in front of them in the hopes of mitigating the impact. Thankfully for all of them, Solas had been quick on the draw.

"WOOHOO! That went much better than the first time!" I triumphantly yell with a fist pump as I lean on the boulder I had hid behind. "Nutsack!" Hissing as I hastily pull it back and shake my hand frantically when I singe my fingers on the still scorching stone.

" _Ma serannas,_ sister. We would have surely been in dire straits without your assistance."

Absently clenching and relaxing my burned hand, I move to stand with the others. The soothing warmth of Solas' magic sliding over me when I do.

"No problem. Though if you could tell us if we are on the right track to your camp, that would be greatly appreciated."

The three share a look before the leader speaks again. "Continue on this path and down the river. But we must warn you that our Keeper, Keeper Hawen, does not view outsiders in a favorable light thanks to the recent troubles befalling the clan."

_Oh joy._

Releasing an exasperated sigh, I offer a hand in farewell to each of them. "Duly noted, and thank you."

 _"Dareth Shiral."_ Each warrior proudly states with a bob of their head as they bid us goodbye.

"Well, maybe we'll get lucky and he'll like you, Glow Bait." Varric comments optimistically when the Dalish disappear from view and we're alone on the path.

I snicker at that. "Think so, huh?"

"Not really, but I didn't want to steal Chuckle's job of being pessimistic."

Smirking at Varric's accurate remark, I take lead once again and together we continue our journey to the Dalish. Drawing ever closer to my sole reason for coming to the Exalted Plains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ma serannas: (Elven) My thanks/Thank you   
> Dareth Shiral: (Elven) farewell; Lit. "Safe journey"


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Andaran atish'an: (Elven) Enter this place in peace. A formal elven greeting.
> 
> Shem: derived from "shemlen", meaning "quickling" or "quick children," the old Elvish term for humans. Usually used as a derogatory term for humans by those with Elven blood

True to their word, the path had eventually spit us out to a river with vibrant crimson and gold aravels clearly visible farther downstream. With a splash, we cross the water to trudge along the grassy bank. Open prairie-like plains with sparse rock formations a sudden contrast to the thick trees and small mountain cover behind us.

As confident strides bring me closer to the camp, a tingling buzzing pokes along the back of my skull and in my teeth. Growing stronger and more insistent the nearer I get.

Stretching my neck in bewilderment at the sensation, I halt feet from a hunter who stands at the ready at our approach. Eyes warily studying us and lingering on my Vallaslin.

 _"Andaran atish'an_. What brings a Dalish in such diverse company to our camp?"

"We are the Inquisition. I would like to speak with your Keeper if that's alright." The prodding starting to get annoying in its unrelenting battering.

He hesitates, considering my face and tattoo before turning his head just enough to shout an order to another hunter. Her body disappearing behind the huge aravels to presumably find Keeper Hawen. In awkward silence we wait, both groups eyeing the other.

I reach up to rub the back of my head and run my tongue over my teeth, wondering if there were wards or something around here. Other than the apostates in the Hinterlands, we had generally only ran into demons or templars. Making my experience with having magic done to me or at me, very limited.

My contemplation is shelved when a willowy figure proudly marches from between the wagons. A weathered elf with Elgar'nan's Vallaslin covering his face suspiciously watches us as he comes to stand before me. Not a hair out of place or wrinkle in his Keeper robes as he stares down his nose at me.

A look that instantly says, 'I'm a dick!' and that I knew I would not be able to ignore for long.

"Shemlen have defiled our sacred grounds, caused rockslides, dug ditches that make traveling impossible; and now a group calling themselves the Inquisition have come to our camp demanding an audience.-"

"I don't remember demanding..." I sarcastically mumble.

"Tell me, what benefit could dealing with you bring? You have forgotten your pride. A Dalish elf in the company of Shemlen and a Flat-Ear." Keeper Hawen sneers in loathing.

In mock shock I gape at Hawen, exclaiming, "Whaaa~?! I'm Dalish?! Fen'Harel's glorious ass cheeks!" Frantically I feel the side of my head, pretending confusion. " I found my pointy ears but--Where did my self-righteousness go?!" Stifled chuckles and snorts come from behind me at the outburst, causing Keeper Hawen's expression to turn thunderous at having his snide attitude being thrown back.

"You would dare show such disrespect by using a God's name in such a fashion?! Your insolence courts his wrath, and there will be no hiding nor escape from it," he preaches with such vehemence that I burst into uncontrollable laughter.

The cackling is so hard that I have to grab my knees and I'm unable to form a response--or do anything else--but try to breathe through the mirth. Keeper Hawen looks down at my bent form in outrage, a vein popping from his temple from anger and appearing like he would suffer a coronary at any moment.

"S-s-sorry" Raising a hand in a placating manner. "Y-you-" Stilling giggling, I clear my throat and chop a hand in front of my face, putting on a calm demeanor. "You just said that with such seriousness. It was beautiful. By all means, he is free to prance forth and sprinkle his rage at my insolence. Will that happen? No. It's hilarious you believe that though, power to you," giving him a ridiculing thumbs up. "I had hoped to form a partnership with you but it appears your conceit won't allow for that."

Not at all disappointed. I hadn't come here for them in the first place, it had only been the excuse to draw us here.

"Shemlen have done little to earn our trust. Why should we listen to an agent of them? You bear the mark of one of us, yet you insult and mock our heritage."

"Actually you started it, I only responded in kind. If you would like respect, might I suggest you begin by giving it first? I mean that only makes sense..." Putting my palms face-up and shrugging at him.

"Your Flat-Ear and Shemlen can-"

"ARGH!" Interrupting Hawen's aversion filled rant. "What the hell is that?!" I stretch my neck and vigorously rub the back of my skull. The buzzing tingle having grown too irksome to simply disregard anymore.

"Inquisitor?"

"Something wrong, Glow Bug?

"What is it?" Moving to stand next to me, Solas' brow creasing as he studies my face.

"No one feels that?" At the perplexed expressions on my teammates faces, I try to clarify. "The stupid buzzing! It's annoying as fuck. Are there wards or something?"

"There are no wards within the camp. Describe what you feel." Worried intent replacing his confusion at my admission.

"I don't know...It's at the back of my head and in my teeth. It's coming from here." Walking in the direct of the camp, only to change trajectory as I attempt to pinpoint where it was originating from.

Feeling like it was decreasing just the tiniest bit, I halt mid-step and tilt my head, considering. Doing an about-face on my heel, I stride to the river, heading downstream. At the increasing tingling sensation, my eyes widen in realization.

"Motherfuckers!" My body flashing away in a Fade-Step down the river bank to track the sensation, leaving everyone behind.

The landscape is a blur of colors washed together as I race over the terrain. My feet cycling through so swiftly that I feared I would stumble. The air feeling as though on the verge of cutting with the sheer force of my acceleration. Its crushing weight hitting my body, squeezing the breath from my lungs and grinding bone. A migraine begins as pressure bombards me, my vision starting to spot and darken, but I persist.

Straining my body and magic past its limits, refusing to be too late. Never letting the Fade-Step end, ordering it to keep going in one long continuous phase. Feeding energy unwaveringly into the spell, uncaring of what the repercussions would be or what I was currently enduring.

As frustrated and hurt as I was about Solas, I could not leave things as they were. He had endured so much sorrow already, I would not allow him to suffer more. I would make it in time and I _would_ save his friend.

I would accept no other alternative.

There's a small burst of energy as I stumble out of Fade Step, bear crawling for a few feet to keep from wiping out. The sight before me as I desperately try to breathe and blink the darkness away one that makes my blood run cold. Discomfort and dizziness all but forgotten as I rush into the midst of a nightmare.

Mages lay mangled and impaled upon the grassy plain, their white robes once pure now stained crimson in death. Frozen and burnt men rest among them, bandits who had been defenseless against the barrage of power. Only six mages remain fighting, their stamina flagging from the overwhelming number of opposition. Three step forward to create a line of defense, giving the others a chance to form a circle. It is the massive collection of energy and radiant green hues flaring from their ring that gets me moving.

Recklessly I flash to place myself between mages and outlaws, haphazardly sending a maelstrom of current to cleave sky and earth. Screams and pained shrieks rend the air as the bandits' limbs and bodies are torn.

"STOP!! DON'T SUMMON THE SPIRIT!" I desperately shout to the enchanters, keeping myself between the mages and outlaws.

Arrows rain down from above, forcing me to abandon my position. Searing pain cuts along my side and right thigh as I Fade Step away to materialize on the archers' hill. Daggers drawing and bows swiveling to hastily train on me.

With a yell, I let the fear and frustration loose, expelling magic in an expanding whirlwind to slice and rip. A woman's agonized cry morphs into an animalistic roar behind me. In horrified rage I spin to see my failure.

There are no binding stones, no runes to disrupt, nothing to break. I was at a loss of how to bring her back. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

To purify a spirit, a powerful soul must take in the corruption by placing their own soul inside the spirit and forcefully taking the taint from them. Forcing the soul to 'devour' it, cleansing the taint by overwhelming it in a sense. The purified energy becomes a source of power afterwards, however there was a grave downside.

If it wasn't strong enough, the process would backfire and both the soul and spirit would be corrupted.

And this was pre-Veil.

With the Veil in place, everything had been sundered from itself. Spirits weren't as severed as everyone in the Waking world, but it was enough that it added a level of difficulty and made the process impossible for anyone of this time. Being sundered gave corruption an extra foothold, filling in those gaps that the Veil had created. Hence, more taint for a soul to have to take in and battle against.

The mages back away in terror as Wisdom is corrupted into Pride. Her enormous claws swiping out to cut down bandit and enchanter alike. Seeing the summoned monstrosity, those outlaws still alive flee, whatever prize they had been after not worth the cost it seemed.

As Wisdom was currently, my soul would have to be powerful enough to break her binding, break through the corruption of Pride to find Wisdom, and take in the additional taint of being both a demon and sundered from herself.

I flash, but not far enough. My knees buckling when I only get halfway to the mages and Pride. Crawling on my hands, I stagger to stand up only to fall again. Only the three summoners are left, the ones who had bound her.

Pride takes measured steps to them, their binding only delaying their murder.

My fingers fist and I shove off with everything I have to Fade Step into Pride's path. I thrust magic straight into Pride's front but not to harm. Only packing and weaving magic to push into her to keep her at bay.

"RELEASE THE BINDING!" The balls of my feet digging into the earth as the force of Pride driving forward slowly pushes me back. Teeth grind brutally together as I clench my jaw, fighting to stay my ground. Fighting my faltering body.

Black spots danced in my vision, becoming more prominent. The beating of my heart so frantic and hard from the strain, I knew that I could not keep this up for much longer. It would fail before my magic did.

_Not yet. Just a little more. Hold on just for a little longer. Please!_

Horrified and panic filled words reach me. "What?! Are you mad?! That binding is the only thing keeping that thing from killing us! It is a monster!"

"INQUISITOR!"

"MAKER'S FLAMING ASS! WHAT DID YOU FIND, GLOW BAIT?!"

"RELEASE THE BINGINGS YOU DUMB FUCKERS! NOW!" I scream at the idiot behind me just as my heart seems to seize and I fall to my knees. The magic slipping for a hairsbreadth, allowing for Pride to loom over me before I throw up more.

It wasn't enough, I was waning.

With a snarl Pride tears through the magical pressure like butter and snatches me up. Wringing an agonized cry as the life is squeezed from me, my free arm vainly trying to loosen the crushing grip.

Blackwall releases a mighty war cry, bashing into Pride's knees in an attempt to bring it down. Green smoke wafts from beside the demon, Cole emerging from the shadows to slash the other. The coordinated attack only angering Pride, the grasp becoming stronger as it creates whips of electricity to lash out at its assailants.

 _No..no...this isn't right..._ My struggles becoming weaker as the darkness consumes more of the light.

Bolts pierce one after the other into the thick plated arm holding me, doing little more than providing an irritating sting. Potent magic viciously slams relentlessly into Pride. Hammering without mercy until she relinquishes her hold, my body limply slipping from its claws.

"-quisitor! Inquisitor!" Blackwall's frantic yells rouse me enough to open my eyes.

In a dreamy haze I see Blackwall slash and pivot to draw Pride's attention as Cole darts around its legs to swiftly cut before disappearing in a cloud of green. Bolts and magic strike Pride in the chest, a brutal assault aimed to ruthlessly end it.

_...not right...this...isn't right...I wanted to save her..._

Without anything to shatter the binding and bring Wisdom back to herself first, the process to save the spirit would be treacherous. In all likelihood it would be fatal if I wasn't strong enough, and that had been before I found myself in my current state.

I think of those scenes of Solas' anguish at Wisdom's death, of the stoic mourning on his face. I think of Redcliffe, of the expression of remorse and sad gratitude as I disappeared. Of the overwhelming regret I had felt when I couldn't save him. Faced with his sorrow in person would be crushing, I did not believe I could handle it. When I thought of the price my failure would bring, there was no hesitation in me.

"-op..stop..." Dragging my hand to lay beside me.

Pride stumbles back, roaring in pain as it folds its massive arms over itself. Steel and magic ripping and pummeling it, unwilling to halt until Pride was destroyed.

Straining on shaking limbs I raise to my knees. "..stop..." Resplendent golden light forms at my right hand, sparks dancing forth in a stunning kaleidoscope of colors as I lumber to my feet. "Stop!" Phasing to her in a last ditch effort to save Wisdom.

In a slide-step I pivot as if to palm strike Pride's belly, shoving my light into her body. A vortex of blinding radiance bursts from the contact, the very surroundings appearing to dull in comparison as it flares. It feels like I'm battling a powerful current as I try to break through the binding and corruption, praying there was enough of Wisdom left that my soul could reach her.

The balls of my feet dig in as I push against the taint. Wet warmth drips over my lips and I feel more trail down the side of my neck from my ears. Flecks and tendrils of black drift through the golden blaze from Pride, the corruption gradually falling away.

My hand meets so much opposition that slowly it feels like it was being pushed back. I grit my teeth, fighting for supremacy.

_Let me save you, goddamn it! I've come too far and I refuse to lose now!_

Dazzling light flares in answer. With a yell, I desperately shove with everything I had left. In an explosion of darkness, wisps and streams of black rupture from Pride leaving only a shining woman sitting in stunned disbelief.

I stagger forward at the unexpected lack of resistance. My breathes come as a struggling rasp, legs shaking in their effort to hold my weight.

"That...what was that? I have never seen the like. That light, it was beautiful..." Blackwall asks in awe.

"My friend. How is this possible?" Shocked wonder in his expression as Solas kneels before Wisdom then turns his head to me. "Are you all right? How do you feel?"

"Praise the Maker! You did it! Thank you for saving us. We-"

I round on the fat mage and his two companions in fury, "You stupid fucking cunts! I'm going--GAHHHH!!"

Shrieking as tendrils of darkness impale me, infusing themselves into my body. I clutch my head in agony, staggering forward a few steps before dropping to my knees. With a pained cry, magic splits the air around me, slashing uncontrollably in every direction.

Curses ring out and barriers flare to life at the unexpected barrage. Through the haze of suffering, I feel magic attempt to engulf me and suppress the frenzied energy. There's too much for it to capture as threads slithering past the grasping net, halting only a fraction in its wild destruction.

 _Stop! Stop!_ Trying to help reign it in, but unable to concentrate enough to do more than bend into a hurt ball.

Shouts are drowned out by the tumultuous currents of power ripping heaven and earth alike. However, one voice miraculously makes it through the din, yelling a statement that instills fear like no other ever could.

"STOP! YOU HAVE TO STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO HARM CHUCKLES IF YOU DON'T!"

Almost in an instant, torrents of magic disperses. The area feeling eerily tranquil after such a display of power.

"Whew. Everyone alright?" Wiping a hand across his forehead as Blackwall moves to my hunched figure. "Inquisitor that was--SHIT! What have you done to yourself?!" He exclaims in horror at the sight.

In a white knuckled grip I dig the dagger into my thigh, using the pain as a focal point. Battling my magic down to stay within as its turbulent energy struggled for release. Blood freely dripped from my nose and ears at the pressure, completely unnoticed in my tense state. Solas' magic firmly seizes me, taking control of it now that everything had been stuffed down. A presence crowds close as hands move to my back and wrist.

"I have you, let go now." Tone gentle but unyielding.

When I stubbornly hold on, refusing to take the chance of my magic slipping, Solas' grip on my wrist tightens bruisingly, forcing my fingers to open and release the dagger. His hand quickly replaces mine, yanking the blade free. Only a small whimper comes with its removal, the pain from the corruption overshadowing everything else.

Knowing I was in safe hands and my magic would be contained, I stop trying to do anything but ride out the sensations hitting me.

Without the adrenaline to keep me going, the hurt is overwhelming, not even Solas' soothing magic helps to lessen it. Drained from experiencing the power surge and trauma, I gratefully let unconsciousness take me. Praying the sweet oblivion would let me escape the agony for just a little while.


	29. Chapter 29

_This...wasn't right._

_"Balls..."_ Sighing in exasperation as I take in my surroundings. Twisting to look both to the right and left while making a raspberry sound, _"Seriously...the fuck is this?"_ Kicking up water that lapped at my calves in emphasis.

I wasn't in the Fade. I knew it the second I opened my eyes. Everything was much too stale and cold.

A flat, bleak land made purely of water sprawls in all directions. Its surface as tranquil as a mirror and covered by a layer of lazily floating fog. When the water settles, I realize the eerie stillness was a cunning ploy to lure the unwary into dropping their guard. A deceptively forceful current tugged at my legs. Its drag easily strong enough to pull one under if they weren't careful and tow them farther into whatever this place was.

The bone chilling cold of the water feels like my heat is gradually being leeched away as I stare out at the world of grey I found myself in. Only a fuzzy glow of warm light stretching behind me provides a touch of color in a landscape painted solely in shades of grey. An almost indistinct pull seems to tether me to the glow, trying to reel me in and haul me through the light.

_Probably not a good idea to 'go into the light'._

Throwing my hands in the air with a, _"fuck it."_ I turn my back to the warmth and slosh my way deeper into the world of water.

I trudge until the hazy light lies on the horizon and I come upon a barrier built of dense fog that towers into the sky above. Wisps and curling tendrils sluggishly billow off the wall of miasma as I gingerly reach out a finger to poke it.  

The angry vibration of the anchor activating at the same time green flares from my left palm startles me just as a tunnel opens in the fog. Parting as though someone had pulled back a curtain and the dim grey of the world beyond can be seen.

 _"Ugghhh...You're involved...That's never a good sign."_ Grumpily eyeing my hand before moving into the tunnel.

The path folds in on itself when I exit, smoothing out and appearing as if it had never been. Mind-numbing cold seeps into my body as I stand in ankle deep water. The river's current still present but considerably lessened as I stride forward.

It's only the increasingly fierce tugging of the unseen tether that saves me from tumbling into a hidden sinkhole.

Staggering back from the near disaster, I fruitlessly scan the water for more, unable to penetrate the reflective surface. With caution and a twinge of fear now in my hesitant steps, I slide my foot along the bottom and press on once again.

"STOP, _DA'ELGARA_!" Freezing where I stood at the unexpected noise.

 _"Larry?!"_ Swerving around and gaping in shock at the spirit racing to me from whence I came.

" _Da'elgara,_ you must turn back. This is no place for you. You shouldn't be here." A translucent hand grips me with surprising solidarity and starts to tug me back. Frantic in his effort to get me away.

 _"Wha-"_ Allowing him to take me with him and vaguely noticing he wasn't in his corporeal form. _"Larry, what's wrong? What is this place?"_

He shoves my left palm at the fog barrier and hurriedly ushers me through. "This is the Void, _da'elgara_. There are very few ways to reach it. Unfortunately you found one of the requirements." Almost bodily dragging me at this point to reach the glowing light from before.

 _"Oh, well, of course it is...because having a normal day would be **fucking weird**."_ I wryly comment. _"How did you get here then, Larry? How the fuck did I for that matter? Wait, did I die?"_ The last asked with a hint of terror and dread.

Larry pauses in his single-minded mission and twists to look at me. "No, _da'elgara_. Wisdom and Compassion secure you. You feel them do you not? Their hold?"

_Wow. Okay then. Light: Good. Grey: Bad._

_"Now you tell me..."_ Rolling my eyes at my terrible choice. _"So Wisdom is alright then, fuck yeah!"_ Feeling infinitely relieved at the news.

"I felt you slip through the Fade. Felt the wrongness. _Da'elgara_...you have torn your spirit. Give the corruption back. Please." His hand tightening around mine at the plea.

_"Is she saved as she is, Larry?"_

"Yes." Resigned sadness in his voice as he gazes at me.

_"Then I won't do that. I gave Solas back his friend, I can handle a little pain to cleanse the corruption."_

"You don't understand." Luminous head shaking in misery. "You are torn, _da'elgara_. The pain, the struggle...everything will be harder. I do not know if you will survive, or if you will wish to. I cannot help you, _da'elgara..._ I cannot help you..." Larry bends to places his forehead to our clasped hands, sounding close to tears.

I inhale deeply at the news, shutting my eyes. For a moment we stand at the border of the Void, neither of us moving. Exhaling, I squeeze the hand holding mine and give Larry a cocky smirk. _"I got this, Larry. I will make it through and you're going to tell me about this-"_ Gesturing to our surroundings. _"Deal?"_   

Larry says nothing, only stares into my eyes searching for something. Delving into my thoughts before nodding once as if he found what he sought. "Deal." Giving an answering squeeze as he releases my hand. Then, with a gentle push, Larry sends me into the warm light.

And straight into a waking hell.

 

~

 

Agonized screams pierce my ears as I come to. Cries begging for the pain to stop, for a name to save them. Unaware that they were my own.

Nails desperately scratch and tear to get to the talons within my chest, to the claws ripping and shredding my insides.

 _"Fenedhis!_ Hold her!"

Hands grasp my fingers in a bruising grip while more pin my shoulders and legs in an effort to still my struggles. Breathes come in frantic pants as I thrash to get away from the pain and pressure holding me. A name pleadingly sobbed and repeated in the hopes of salvation.

"I'm here. I'm here. You must calm. Please, Akira, you have to slow your breathing." A blurry apparition of Solas looms over me as he tenderly wipes the hair from my brow, an expression of hopelessness on his beautiful face.

 _How nice it would be if he looked at me that way..._ I hazily think as I hyperventilate and darkness descends.

 

~      

 

"Gaaahh!" Barely managing to stifle the cry when I wake and grit my teeth to silence it.

_I can't scream. I'm supposed to be strong, I'm supposed to endure. I don't want to be a bother to the team._

Fingers strain and clench, fisting the blankets beneath me as my back arches from the agony. Muscles seizing and tensing from the force of riding out waves of excruciating pain. Gasping for air when it ebbs to something more manageable and my body is left to sag in spent exhaustion.

Any sense of time was gone. Countless times I had slipped in and out of unconsciousness, screams and pain rousing me only to swallow me down once again when it became overwhelming. This was the first instance that I was actually in a state of awareness.

Full body shivers racing over me from the constant ache as I lay there, I hazily turn my head to determine where I was.

The smell of leaves and animal skins permeate the small cave I rested in. Countless bedrolls and supplies line the walls on all sides as blazingly bright light filters in from a large cavern mouth. And its then that I see the crimson aravels and barrels idling beyond.

_The fuck?_

With great effort I raise my head, blinking a few times to be sure I was actually seeing correctly. And yup, those were Dalish wagons.

"You're moving and not screaming. I'd take that as a good sign. How you feeling?" A sympathetic voice chimes as a shadow that had been completely overlooked moves from the corner to kneel next to my side.

I swallow, trying to clear my throat and make an attempt at levity, "Like I was hit with feather kisses and Fade farts." Smiling weakly up at Varric. "How long have I been down for?" Afraid to know the answer. Where missing the interruption of the first blood ritual wouldn't make much of a difference, I was fairly certain that missing the summoning of Nightmare would be a huge shit storm.

"Three days."

I sigh in relief at that.

"Am I imagining it, or are we in a Dalish camp?"

"No, no, you're not imagining it. After you helped that spirit, we had to take you somewhere and this was it. They weren't too keen on the idea but Chuckles can be...quite persuasive." Smirking as though he was thinking of some private joke. "This is actually the first time he's has left your side." Varric innocently adds.

_Mmm-hmm..._

"Where's everyone? If it's been three days, we need to get going. We've already lingered longer than planned."

"Easy now, Glow Bug. No need to rush anything. The Kid and Hero are helping with some wrangling nonsense in the hopes it will relieve some of the tension. More than anything, the Kid needed to be given something to do, he wasn't handling your situation well. Chuckles is dealing with Keeper Hawen who hasn't taken too kindly to housing what he has dubbed the 'abomination'. That man's a piece of work, he's just pissy that their sleep has been interrupted the past few days."

"Being on a horse or being on the ground won't make a difference, Varric. We need to get to the Western Approach and see what's happening with the Wardens. When the others get back we can get out of Keeper Hawen's hair and he can go back to being butt hurt all alone."

Varric shakes his head, "for the record, I think it's a bad idea. You're in no fit state for travel and in the case of a fight? Forget about it. You'd be squashed faster than Tiny with cocoa."

"Good thing there's four people traveling with me who are walking badasses then."

A considering look levels on me for a moment before Varric issues a put-upon sigh. "Fine."

Tentatively I roll to my side and prop myself on an elbow. The instant, fatigued muscle spasms not boding well. "Varric, my super awesome buddy..." His eyes narrow suspiciously at my sweet tone. "Mind lending me a shoulder to the river?" Smiling and fluttering my lashes, "please?"

"Why?" Tone dubious and expression wary.

"I doubt the desert is going to have many bodies of water and I want to dunk myself while I have the chance."

Someone had taken the time to wipe me down but I could feel more sweat building just from laying here and I knew I needed a change of clothes. In truth, my insides felt like molten lava was raging through them and I was desperate to try anything that would offer a respite from the inferno.

I didn't think that was something Varric would find comforting however, so I wisely kept that to myself.

"No, oh no." Raising his palms up in a halting gesture and giving me a 'nu-uh' face. "Are you trying to get me shot with fire? Chuckles would have a fit. Nope."

"Come on, it's not like I'm moving very far, Solas can't get mad about that. If you don't, I will just crawl to it...Please, Varric? It would help me feel better." Presenting Varric with my best enabling smile.

"Not the reason I was referring to..." He mumbles. Then with a defeated groan Varric holds out a hand. "You'd do it too. Fine, let's get this over with. I never wanted to live forever anyway."

Varric says nothing as I struggle to my feet using his strength to get me upright. Even when I all but drape myself over him, my hands on either shoulder and leaning against his short frame, he remains quiet. Merely offers his support and keeps a steadying arm around my waist, unhurriedly leading me through the small encampment and to the river bank.

As I'm gingerly taken to the water's edge, he releases me and finally breaches the silence. "The past days have been rough for him, hearing your cries...it just..." Varric pauses, shaking his head with a sigh, "I haven't seen his polite mask crack like that. You should take pity on him and cut him some slack, Glow Bug."

Those days had been a muddled fog of torment with brief flashes of a stray touch or worried gaze. To be told that they were in fact real and not figments of some pain induced hallucination made me feel slightly happy all things considered. Though I didn't want to dwell on the 'you've been screaming' part.

Wasn't too proud of that. It also made me wonder what I had said or did during that time.

"I'll try, Varric. Now, you may want to avert your eyes cuz it's about to get R rated up in this river." Smirking as I slowly shuffle fully clothed into the stream, thankful to whomever had removed my boots. I was ecstatic I wouldn't have to wrestle my way out of them considering I was pretty sure that getting out of the rest of my clothes was going to prove to be a challenge.

"Wha--ARGH! Killing me here!" I hear from behind, causing me to smile from the harried quality in Varric's voice.

Having come to the extent of my energy, I plop more than lower down to sit on a smooth rock in knee high water. The jarring impact making my tail bone hurt but does little to distract from the building crescendo of pain welling up.

"You alright in there?" Having heard the splashing crash.

"I'm good."

Uncaring of any passerby's, I struggle to peel my Qunari halter off, dunking it multiple times to rinse the sweat and blood out as much as I could. Twisting around, I attempt to toss it onto the bank. My strength pitiful as it lands with a wet splat on the shore but still in the water.

_Eh, close enough. It's not going anywhere._

With much wiggling and effort, I get my pants off as breathes come in tired huffs, forcing me to sit for a moment to rest. Shivers wreck my body as the pain mounts, the water doing no more than providing a chilly blanket to my outer shell.

Dipped and rinsed, I throw the trousers to join the bra and debate how best to submerge myself. Deciding that leaning backwards would lead me to getting stuck and then drowning; I bend forward between my legs and soak the entirety of myself. Opting to save Varric and me the mortification of him having to fish my naked ass out of the river.

Straightening with a gasp, I rub my hands over my face and slick back my hair. The escalating feeling of being carved up and set ablaze not so simple to brush off anymore. Hunching over and bringing my knees to my chest, I sit with clamped teeth to weather out the newest wave of torture. Arms cradled between my breasts, I rest my forehead on bent knees, enduring the swelling climax. Battling the building screams, whimpering when it became so devastating that I was afraid I would break.

The trickling sound of water flowing past, of an active and busy camp; all of it swamps my hushed cries. My determination flagging the longer it lingers, praying it would end. That I wouldn't have to feel it anymore, that I could be back to normal.

I forcefully expel air through still gritted teeth as the pain begins to recede, knowing it was only a small lull before it came again.

Tense muscles slowly relax the barest fraction as I take deep breathes to calm my breathing, body trembling from the shock. Utterly drained, I wave water on myself, too exhausted to do more than hunch there in the stream. In embarrassment I realize I would need to call Varric for help to get out and even to dress.

The crunch of pebbles underfoot has me lifting my head and twisting around to ask Varric for his aid. Ready to suck it up and get through the awkwardness, I open my mouth only to shut it again when I see that it wasn't Varric who stood on the embankment. One of the Dalish hunters strides to the water's edge and crouches down, staring and saying nothing. Light brown hair streaked with blonde is pulled back in a severe ponytail, revealing a Vallaslin devoted to Falon'Din. It's lines faintly visible against deeply tanned skin.

At the lewd glint in his eyes and not in a mood to deal with bullshit, I mockingly quirk a brow at him. "Do you need something or are you just hoping I'll punch you in the throat?" Wondering where Varric was at this moment.

The hunter remains silent, simply tilts his head as his gaze rudely rakes over my back. I roll my eyes with a disgusted snort at the behavior and open my mouth to call for Varric when he abruptly stands in a rush and says something in Elven.

Shrugging, "I have no idea what you're saying." I sardonically say.

With a sneer crossing his features, he speaks another string of Elven while eyes callously lock on mine. At my continued indifference he seems to decide to take a deliberate step into the river.

 _Ho-oh! Someone wants to be castrated. Who am I to deny his request?_ Reaching for strands of magic in preparation only to find there was an invisible barrier blocking my efforts. _Balls...Forgot Solas has that shit under wraps. Guess I get to do it the old fashioned way._

There's a flash of movement in our periphery, drawing both of our attentions. And in an instant a choked gasp sings over the stone as the hunter is magically seized by the throat and bodily lifted, his legs kicking wildly as he bucks against the hold.

Arm extended, Solas marches with deadly grace from the cover of boulders, his visage shrouded in a snarl of rage. Elven, harsh and incredibly cold spills from Solas; a chilling display of control as fingers dispassionately clench. Increasing the pressure around the hunter and driving his breathes to come in gargled wheezes. With a detached flick of his wrist, Solas sends the elf flying. Bouncing him across the ground to sputter and cough as he hastily scrambles to his feet. Like a coward the hunter throws heated words over his shoulder while tripping over himself to run away.

Jaw hanging open and unapologetically gawking at the still thunderous expression trailing the fleeing hunter, I merely remain sitting dumbly. The air practically crackled around him in his fury and it was magnificent.

_Angry Solas is fucking hot!_

"As much as you may enjoy bathing within clear view of the Dalish camp, it would be prudent to end your swim." Keeping his back respectively turned and smacking me out of my fawning musings with his irked tone.

"So sorry that I wasn't spry enough to go traipsing to find somewhere more secluded. If you could, tell Varric I need his help, then you won't have to worry about my apparent voyeurism." I counter with a touch of irritation.

At the admission of weakness his shoulders lose a great deal of their stiffness and a tender lilt colors his voice. "That is not necessary. If I may..?"

Solas tripping over the rocks or dropping me didn't particularly sound appealing.

"As long as you will actually look at me and don't keep your eyes closed like I'm some shy maiden."

"That is impractical, and 'shy' is not a word I would use to describe you." Solas drolly replies as he turns and strides into the river, his eyes firmly never straying from my face.

I snort at his pragmatic statement, finding it funny that I had thought he would rebel against looking at me. A smirk surfaces when I realize that if he was going to help me up, he would have to look down and there would be no way for him to not get a gander of the goods. As much as he wanted to be the chivalrous knight, it would be impossible in a second.

My lips suck in and I stifle a giggle when he half-turns to gaze behind my shoulder to avoid seeing anything and offers a hand.

Taking pity on him, I grab his forearm with both hands and attempt to stand. Legs and arms quivering at the strain and only getting as far as a squat before they give out. Water splashes as Solas steps to catch me by the waist, his hand slipping on slick skin and ending up under my right breast. My left hand instinctively grasps his shoulder to keep from sliding completely out of his hold.

Wordlessly, Solas abandons all pretense of politeness and bends to hook an arm behind my knees, lifting me with an effortless ease. With sturdy steps he carries me to the bank, and I can't help the secret evil glee I get from the slight blush on his pale cheeks.

"Used to carrying naked women around, eh?"

An eyebrow twitches and the corner of his lips curve into a grin. "It is not a position I find myself often. You have a habit of creating memorable moments."

Like I was made of fragile glass that was liable to shatter, Solas oh so gently sets me upon the grass and moves to gather my clothes still in the water. His gaze stays slightly over my shoulder as he quickly hands me my things and pivots to show me his back. As I wring out the trousers and start the struggle to get them on, I feel the stirrings of another wave building. Fearing that I would be seizing in pain with pants half on, I look up at Solas.

"Solas, I need help." The desperation in my voice causes him spin around lighting fast. Before he can ask, I tug at my pants, "the pain's about to get bad, help me with this, please."

Understanding surfaces and he kneels down with business-like efficiency to wrestle the soaked attire up my legs.

When the shivers begin to violently grip me, Solas' expression twists to that of sorrowful regret as he concentrates on assisting me dress. Without having to ask, he lifts my halter and as smoothly as he can, wiggles it over my head and shoulders.

"You are enduring unimaginable suffering for an unfamiliar spirit and I can only offer my gratitude. What you did for Wisdom, thank you. They are a dear friend and I am in your debt for saving them. How you were able to accomplish such a feat is a mystery, but one that I welcome." Voice soft as gentle fingers settle my clothes.

Any happiness I had from his tender ministrations and care burns away like ash.

_Ah, so that's why he has been so attentive. I should have known. It's not for me, it's for his guilt over my circumstance. I'm such a fool..._

My breathes come in pained wheezes as the encroaching crescendo of agony mounts. But I force the words out, wanting to make myself perfectly clear.

"I did it because I wanted to. You will never owe me anything. Owing me...that's something I never want to hear from you, Solas. Ever."

In bitterness and heartache, I shut my eyes and hug myself into a tight ball. The painful torrent of the corruption not nearly as powerful as the realization that I would never reach his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side Note:
> 
> Many will notice the Void sounds/reads eerily similar (*cough*exactly*cough* ) to Garth Nix's version of Death from the Old Kingdom books. They are entirely correct! >:D 
> 
> Every time the Void has been mentioned all the way back in DA:O, I have always had this picture of Garth Nix's books in mind, so when I decided to put the Void within the story, this is how it had to be in my mind, lol.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY!

I sat in drooping exhaustion amidst our gear as I watch the others ready the mounts. Cole and Blackwall had arrived back to camp only an hour after my unfortunate river incident with a fluffy halla in tow. Leaving us with enough daylight left to pack up and begin the grueling journey to the Western Approach.

Even as the team had expressed their concerns over departing in my current state, I had stubbornly argued against waiting. Though truth of the matter was, I wasn't completely sure either that I could handle the travel.

I found myself in a worn-out, suffering filled limbo to which there appeared no end. In a trancelike stupor I sit, so bone weary that all I desired was to sleep.

Fatigue ate at me in a constant drag. The continuous pain and tremors draining me of any energy and leaving me pathetically weak. The agony strong enough to nudge at my awareness without overwhelming me, preventing the blissful escape of unconsciousness.

"We're all set. You’re sure you're alright to ride? Maybe it would be better if someone rode with you." Blackwall asks as he turns from the horses and walks to me, an expression of uncertainty on his face.

I plaster on a grin, trying to be reassuring, "I'm good. Just help me up and toss me on."

Having finished his own preparations, Solas strides to join us . "Now is not the time for false bravado, _lethallan_. The Grey Wardens may have forced us into a position of urgency, but that does not mean needless risk is necessary. You are in no condition to ride alone."

When Solas comes forward as though he intended to take that duty upon himself, I slapped that plan down real quick. Having had quite enough of his guilt driven pity.

"Blackwall, if you would please?" Holding out my arm for him and making it a point to ignore Solas.

"Uh.." Hesitating as he glances from me to Solas' surprised face before clearing his throat and moving to assist me to my feet.

He carries more than supports me to my horse, lifting me into a princess hold so I can throw a leg over the wide back. His hands linger long enough for me to settle in the saddle before stepping back to mount his own.

Not looking at all pleased, Solas does the same. Nudging his horse to walk alongside mine when we set a leisurely pace. Lips pressed together in disapproval as he stares at the path ahead.

It isn't long before my body slouches from weariness and it becomes a game of riding out the waves of pain and keeping my eyes open.

"Fatigued so soon? Our journey has barely begun," he asks in mock confusion with a lift of his brow. "Ready to give up this foolhardy endeavor and see reason?"

"I'm fine." Blinking as I straighten in my saddle.

"As you say." Solas airily replies.

The steady rhythm and sway of the ride gradually lulls me into a sleepy fog. Falling into a slouch once again as my eyes blink owlishly in an attempt to stay awake. Body and mind finally having reached its limit to how much it could handle.

Lids remain shut for longer and longer periods as my torso increasingly leans forward. My eyes close and my body slumps to the side just as the bump of a round belly against my leg snaps my eyes open.

"S'fine..." I slur as I feebly bat the hands gripping my ribs and hauling me from the saddle.

"Clearly." He dryly states, settling me across his lap and securing me with an arm over my waist.

"You're only nice because you feel guilty..." voice little more than a mumble as sleep drags me down. "I don't want your pity, Solas...don't...make me love you anymore..."

Too tired to fight it, I huddle into his embrace, resting my cheek against his chest. The contact making me want to cry from how much I yearned that the care he was showing was from affection rather than remorse.

His fingers twitch in stunned shock as silence descends at the muttered admission.

"If that held truth, everything would be simpler. I did not offer my heart for such a hallow sentiment."

Mournfully soft spoken words tenderly whispered, their significance never to be heard as the dark had long won before.

 

~

 

Comfort, protection. Warmth.

In the emptiness of unconsciousness, I feel them there. Their existence a life line as the black murkiness of sleep is invaded by fire and misery. I grasp at them, clinging to the soothing impressions, not wanting to leave the heavenly reprieve. Trying to battle the growing awareness that would bring me to horrifying wakefulness.   

I bury my face in supple cotton, curling myself into the solid body holding me as much as possible. Fingers clutch a handful of material in a death grip while tremors overtake me. The scent of herbs, leather, and hint of sweat providing a focal point and giving a measure of relief.

A hand gently strokes my back in consolation, rubbing small circles that at any other time I would have taken delight in.

The touch penetrates the fatigued, pain-addled fog. With bitterness I realize where I was and who I was pawing. I wanted to rebel against the false kindness, only the feeling of being torn with the slightest movement holds me motionless.

Breathes come in heavy huffs as the wave peaks and the pain falls to its steady throbbing. Fingers losing their grasping hold as I sag limply in exhaustion. Closing my eyes, I heed the call of sleep, its pull a siren's song that I willingly followed.

Shadows and shades of pink start to paint the landscape when next I wake. The sensation of leaning backwards has me hastily seizing Solas' tunic in a bid to keep from falling.

"It's only Blackwall." Placing a hand over my own while keeping the other at my back to aid in the trade off.

Mind slowly comprehending the presence behind me and the gauntleted grip on my ribs, I relax and allow my body to slump into the waiting arms. Infuriatingly, I vaguely note that his scent was not nearly as pleasant to my senses as Solas' as he carries me to a prepared bedroll.  

Delicately I'm seated so I can recline against a large boulder. With a smile meant to be reassuring, Blackwall awkwardly pats me on the shoulder before standing to assist with the horses.

We had made it to the heart of the Exalted Plains by the appearance of the countryside. Sprawling fields and prairie grass span in all directions. Small hills and the occasional rocky ridge like the one we found ourselves against the sole break in the monotony of the plains.

From the lack of ash or smell of decay, I assumed we had either bypassed the conflict or already ridden through it.

I scrub my hands over my face in a bid to wipe away some of the sleep and hopefully become a little more cognizant. There were certain pressing needs I wanted to address without the supervision of a man and I didn't see that happening without at least reaching a semi-awake state.

Deep breath in to buck-up, I use the rock as a crutch to stand.

"What do you need? One of us can get it." All preparations for the night halting as four pairs of eyes look at me expectantly.

"Don't worry about it. Just going to take care of some girl business. Cole can sixth sense me and let you know if I need help." Waving Varric's offer away and snorting when I see three identical expressions of male squeamishness.

Taking a modicum of devilish glee at the lie as I practically crawl along the ridge to find some privacy. After my first experience in dealing with a period while traveling and being forced to utilize the Thedas equivalent of a pad, I had hastily sought alternatives.

The embarrassing Pictionary and miming I had done with the Apothecary back in Haven had been well worth the hassle when he had provided me with a tonic. Mixed correctly, Witherstalk sap was quite the contraceptive. Saving me from having to worry about any monthly shenanigans to my ultimate joy.

Getting increasingly weak and not particularly looking to fall or seize while doing my business, I slink to the ground and wait for the corruption to crest and settle back down to its dull inferno.

Even though I must have been away for a rather fair amount of time when I finally start inching my way back to camp, no one thankfully comes to check on me. Cole obviously having determined I didn't want to be disturbed.

Wheezing and covered in sweat from the exertion, I virtually wilt when I return to my bedroll. Shivering uncontrollably from the strain, I lean back to close my eyes.

The aroma of roasting meat and some type of boiling soup has me inhaling through my mouth to avoid the smell. Its scent making me incredibly nauseous even though I was starving. Nausea due to pain and from hunger leave me in a state of shitty purgatory. Wanting to eat but unable to stomach anything.

Soft footfalls stride to my side and a hand warmly cups my shoulder to draw my attention. Listlessly I open my eyes and turn to the figure crouched beside me.

"Though you may not wish to, you must eat." Spooning some kind of rich amber broth from the bowl he held and raising it to my lips.

Grumpily I open my mouth, scrunching my nose at the answering queasiness from the smell. Fighting the urge to gag as I swallow it down.

"I can feed myself." Holding out a hand for the bowl.

"Perhaps if the goal was to wear it instead of eat, then yes." Lifting a brow as he pointedly glances at the shaking appendage. Pursing my lips as I watch Solas calmly spoon another helping.

"This is more Cole's thing. Why not let him take over." I grumble.

"True. However Cole is otherwise engaged." Completely disregarding my sour expression and attitude like he would a petulant child.

With a huffed _hmph_ , I shut up and accept his care. Feeling like I had been outmaneuvered.

"Wonder how the others are faring. It looks like we might have bypassed the worst of the fighting but I'll sleep better when we're out of these bloody plains." Blackwall says as he takes a seat nearby with a plate of roasted ram in his hands.  

"I'm sure our esteemed Seeker is regretting her choice at the moment." Chuckling as he also settles in with us. "Buttercup and Tiny are likely betting on who will make her snap first."

"Thank you." Placing a hand over Solas' to stop him and covering my mouth with the other; at my limit for forcing food down.  

Full lips part but a glance at the others has him rethinking whatever he wanted to say. Instead he inclines his head in acknowledgement and moves away.

Bringing my knees up, I put my nose against them, using them as a buffer for the nauseating odor of meat. Idly listening as the others chat about the area and what the rest of the team was probably up to. Their content atmosphere; or more likely whatever Solas had put in the soup, relaxing me enough to lay down and ignore my discomfort. The sound of their voices becoming muffled and drowned out as slumber tows me down.

It feels as though I had only just drifted to sleep when a hand gently shakes me awake.

Dawn had begun to paint the land in hues of orange as gear was methodically packed and horses saddled. Blearily rolling up my blankets and stuffing them into my pack, I wobble off with a mumbled 'Lady time' to wave away the helping hands.

Still groggy and knowing I needed to somehow make it back to the others, I don't go far. Determined to do better than yesterday as I amble back to return to the team. Gradually my staggering gait falters to a halt and I drop to a knee as my flagging energy depletes before I can reach my mount.

"Will this be another day of obstinacy or are you perhaps feeling reasonable?" Kneeling in the grass next to me.

"Fine. I won't ride alone. I'll just join Blackwall." Wishing there was snow or mud to throw at his smug face.

"His horse already has the added weight of armor and shield to carry. It would be cruel to expect the animal to bear more."

"Then I should ride with Cole." Shifting my gaze to find him and ask.

"He has taken to scouting ahead, a role requiring freedom to move unhindered. Having the responsibility of an unconscious body would be a burden."

Solas' nonchalant expression and practical tone as he expertly shoots down my suggestions makes the urge to hurl something at him rise. I don't bother mentioning Varric even though I believed he could probably handle my deadweight. Figuring it would likely meet the same end as the other proposals.

Pretty sure my expression screamed 'I'm looking forward to kicking you', I lean over and grip his shoulder, using him as a crutch to stand. Wisely he keeps his face neutral as he leads me to our mounts and hoists me into his saddle. Bounding gracefully up after me to settle behind and hooking an arm to snuggly hold me to him.

I couldn't fathom why he was placing the duty of my care solely on himself. It wasn't like his friend was in danger anymore. I was alive and so long as nothing unforeseen happened, it would stay that way. I had already told him that my condition was my doing and that he didn't owe me anything. I had given him a pass, so why the continued care? It was aggravating not knowing what the hell was churning in that bald head of his.

_Meh. Might as well enjoy it._

Relaxing into his embrace as my heart and body took pleasure in the contact.

_Ugh! Get a hold of yourself! He doesn't even like you! He made the choice to walk away so calm your tits and accept it!_

_Hey, if he wants to assuage his guilt by being the nice guy, why not let him and savor it while I can?_

_Poop on that! Where's your pride woman?! I don't need anyone's scraps they deem to give when it's convenient or because they feel they're responsible._

In frustrated annoyance I debate with myself. Knowing logically what this was but my heart was deciding it wanted to yell 'WEEE!' and run away in ecstasy at the slightest touch from Solas.

With a disgusted _tsk_ at myself, I close my eyes and attempt to rest. The sooner the corruption ran through my system, the sooner I could put some distance between us and try to harden myself.

 

~

 

"-or the Freemen! Leave your weapons and valuables! Don't test us and waste your lives!"

"And your horses! Get off and scram!"

 _"The fuck...?"_ Drowsily coming awake in confusion at the shouts. A soft _shh_ is whispered in my ear as the arm at my waist moves to cross over my chest and grips my shoulder to keep me secured.

Blinking through the sleepy haze, I see that we had ridden into what appeared to be an ambush. The road seemed to have been carved into a giant grassy hill, splitting it down the middle and creating the perfect hiding place for a trap. Rebels with crossbows and bows confidently stand atop the mounds, their weapons threateningly poised and aimed at us. Men wearing blue and white uniforms wielding long swords and daggers march to surround us.

"Kei! Look! The Knife-Ear has a woman!" One of the nearest men sneers with a gesture of his shield at us.

Solas' body tenses behind me, his grasp tightening at the same time Cole speaks up from nearby.

"They struggle, bleeding, screaming. It excites. We won't let you do as you please. You're a bad man. You deserve to die." His voice taking on an edge of anger and distress that was usually reserved for Templars or huge douche bags.

"Wha-" His eyes widen in shock as Cole disappears from his saddle only to materialize from a cloud of green beside him. In a swift glide of feet Cole pivots to smoothly slide his dagger into the man's jugular. At the gurgled choking of the rebel drowning in his own blood, pandemonium erupts.

In a puff of smoke, Cole disappears once again while Blackwall and Varric both fling themselves from their saddles and to the side. A hail of arrows and bolts rain from above, pinging off a hastily erected barrier as our horse rears, releasing a shrill neigh when a bolt lodges into its chest. The massive body lifts on its hindquarters before beginning to topple as arms throw me with a hissed curse.

With an _oomph_ and bone jarring bounce I hit the ground at the same time a pained shout comes from nearby.

Twisting to my side I see the horse thrashing in its death throes, crushing Solas' leg under its immense weight. Face contorted in pain, he attempts to wiggle free before energizing the dying animal and lifting it away.

Three rebels believing we would be easy targets descend on our prone figures. Raising swords and shields to cut and bash. In a stroke of ingenuity, Solas tosses the carcass into the converging men, releasing his magic to let the full weight collide and pin. I reach down for my daggers as more men advance, realizing in an 'oh shit' moment that I wasn't carrying when all I feel is thigh.

Solas staggers to a knelt position, un-slinging his staff and stretching out the injured leg as he hurls and slams magic into the rebels. Breaking bone and limb as they fall in screams of agony.

I roll to get to my hands and knees, not about to let Solas do all the work. Able to lurch to my feet thanks to the adrenaline rush, I stand with the intention of providing support. Searing pain washes through in a terribly timed torrent, hunching me over as I use the adrenaline to stay upright.

Motion from my peripheral instinctively makes me drop and twist. The slash swings wide as I land on my back and stare up at the surprised rebel. Slightly amazed myself, I kick out to strike his knee. Making it buckle just as he's squeezed and flung with powerful magic.

Unable to do more, I turn my head to check on Solas.

Face etched in grim determination, he flicks and rotates his staff, launching spells to maim and kill. Sparing only the briefest of glances to determine my state.

As the last rebel falls, Solas stumbles the few feet to me, sliding down his staff to kneel and look me over.

"H-heal yourself." Shuddering and in the midst of a wave of suffering.

"Were you injured?"

Gritting my teeth, I shake my head and give a thumbs up to show I was fine. Or as fine as I could be.

His expression is unreadable as he gazes down at me before sighing and dropping down to sit beside me. Sparkling blue light flares in his hand as he runs it over his injured leg.

Green poofs right in front of us as a bloody and frantic Cole rushes to Solas. "They hurt and I can't help. I can't heal them but you can. Please come quickly."

"Stay with her, Cole." Standing with a pained wince and dashing off to find the others.

He sits and draws his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them as he offers me the comfort of his presence. As he waited, Cole filled me in on the outcome of our skirmish and helped me to sit when I was feeling better. Blackwall had taken an arrow to the back and calf, along with multiple small lacerations. Varric sustained an arrow to the ribs but had miraculously managed to remain unscathed other than that.

Fortunate for them, nothing appeared to be fatal. However, along with Solas' mount, we had lost Varric's as well. Meaning he would need to double with someone.

I suppose for surviving an ambush, we had done pretty good considering two were severely handicapped. Solas had been encumbered with me and I was absolutely no help whatsoever. So in all, not bad.

Eventually three very exhausted men walk the remaining horses to the edge of the carnage where we sat. Gore stained tunics and faces as they set about retrieving gear from our dead mounts and anything useful from the rebels.

Grumpily, Varric seats himself behind Cole and nudges their horse to take lead. Having gathered what we could and strapping it down, our weary team rides out of the massacre, not wanting to loiter in the death.

Reclining against Solas, I tilt my head back to study him. Fatigue and a hint of pain lines the planes of his face, making me wish I had the talent for healing. His gaze shifts down at my probing look, observing me in turn. Eyes slowly drifting over my face and lingering on my lips.

Blinking, I maneuver myself to sit side-saddle and put my arms around his waist, my face inches from his own. He inhales deeply and his lids lower at the contact as he leans down the barest fraction.

In triumph I pull back, the cloth I had been rummaging for located. Solas' eyes widen and his cheeks flush as he straightens.

Not bothering to ask, I feel around on his belt for the water skin and untie it to blot the cotton piece with. Knotting it again, I look up at Solas to see him watching me in total bafflement.

Wordlessly I gently mop and wipe the blood from his face that he had probably smeared on himself when he was treating the others. His expression softens, appearing content and almost happy. As if he...liked it.

_Nah...that's probably just my wishful thinking._

"Thank you." He warmly says when my hand reluctantly falls.

Nodding, I settle against his chest and close my eyes. Wondering why I kept torturing myself with something I wouldn't have.


	31. Chapter 31

Sheer, delicate magic coats my skin, protecting the pale flesh as the blazing sun and heat beat down on us.

Stifling heat keeps my mind in a fuzzy semi-conscious state, on the very precipice of sleep but unable to take the plunge. The hand resting on my hip squeezes to rouse me and draw my attention. Groggily I lift my head and look around.

Scrawny trees and brittle grass were an inconsistent and sporadic occurrence in the Western Approach, providing nothing in the way of a refuge. Instead sand, rocks, and more sand was our constant accompaniment in the search for the Inquisition forward camp. The road we traveled is one of hard packed earth that at times disappeared entirely into the dunes. How Varric and Cole managed to always stay on course and locate it once again was beyond me.

Currently it was leading us into a deep ravine system. The path hugging a steep slope that would eventually take us to the floor of the gorge. From our high vantage point we can see the crevasses run for miles in opposite directions.

Grass and trees appear to grow more prevalent on the valley floor directly in our line of sight. The cause likely due to the existence of a tiny stream that ran along a portion of the ridge before disappearing to flow back under the rock.

It was there that Harding had made camp, nestled beneath a jutting overhang. The brightly colored tents clashing against the dreary browns of the desert as the banners of the Inquisition proudly sway for all to see.

At the sight I vigorously scrub my face to clear my head and wake up. Slicking back sweaty locks, I scan to see if the others had arrived yet. The cursory search revealing other than the scouts and their supplies; they waited alone.

Little prodding was necessary to nudged our weary horses to trot down the long slope, the presence of shade and water providing all the motivation they needed.

The light tickling of Solas' spell dissipates when we reach the shadowed camp. Our mounts brought to a halt just inside the perimeter of tents as Harding's diminutive figure comes to greet us with a cocky grin.

Solas loosely keeps his hold around me as I slink from the saddle and hop to the ground. With a grunt I bend and twist my back to pop it, trying to stretch out. As comfortable as Solas was, being in a saddle for hours at a time still sucked.

Blackwall and the team quickly follow suit, dismounting with groans of their own and rubbing sore muscles as they lead the horses to the tiny stream.

"Inquisitor, glad to see you made it in one piece, though you look worse for wear." Her gaze drifting over my face with a scrutinizing eye. I didn't doubt that I probably looked haggard after the days I've had. "There are a few things to get you up to speed on. We've spotted Warden activity to the West just as Sir Alistair mentioned. He and the Champion disappeared days ago to investigate but we've been unable to make it out that far. Between the sandstorms and vicious wildlife, our progress has been slow. There's Venatori presence in the area as well. We intercepted a messenger and kindly 'persuaded' him to give the orders he was carrying. And if that isn't bad enough, one of my men gave me a slightly delirious report of a high dragon flying overhead -he may have gotten too close to a poisonous hot spring. In short: this might be the worst place in the entire world."      

"I'm sure we can find you someplace shittier. Just give me some time." I joke with a snort and smiling for the first time in days. "Has Cassandra and the others been through yet?"

Grin widening, "I did not mean that as a challenge, your Worship. The Lady Seeker's group sent a raven not too long ago. By my estimation they shouldn't be far behind. Maybe a few hours or a day at most so long as nothing hinders them."

"The horses need a rest and so do we. We'll wait for a bit and hope they show, otherwise they get to play catch-up. We're also probably going to need to steal two of your horses."

"Whatever you need is yours, Inquisitor."

Happy that we had an excuse to linger, I move to help tend my horse. At the edge of the stream, I remove my boots and gloves, throwing them to the side. Solas was massaging the animal's legs and cupping water to cool her down when I step in and reach up to untie our gear.

Noticing my intention, Solas takes the heavier burden of unbuckling the straps securing my saddle and hoisting it off to set on the ground.

Using my travel cup, I splash water over the wide back and against her barreled chest. Rubbing down one side and along the impressions left by the straps while Solas did the same. Glad my short height prevented me from seeing him over the fat belly.

Where the six days it had taken us to get here weren't exactly the best feeling in my life; I couldn't deny that using Solas like a giant body pillow hadn't been awesome. Even as the corruption raged and rendered, those moments of lucidity in his embrace had given me the strength to endure.

Never once did he complain as my body trembled hard enough to shake even his own. Of having a body pressed against him for hours, even when the temperatures had become so hot that sweat ran down in rivulets. Instead, Solas had quietly whispered in my ear, telling me stories about memories or spirits he had encountered. His fingers tracing soothing circles on my skin as he offered steady comfort.

Solas was a damn good man and it was a depressing slap of reality that he wasn't meant for me. My heart squeezes in sadness and heartache, knowing I needed to put a lid on my feelings.

I had finally realized why, since the very beginning, I had been incapable of erecting barriers against him. His actions and words may be mysterious and questionable, but my heart believed in him. Intuition -my gut, told me that he was worth saving. And as such, I had unwittingly given him my unwavering support and trust long before I came to like him.  

Though he would never return my affections, Solas had my loyalty. Come what may, I would find a way to help him. Even if it meant that all I was to him was a staunch ally. I would bottle away my feelings, I would harden myself, and I would be what he needed and not what I wanted. As much as I repeated this over and over in my mind, the follow through was near impossible. I needed distance and time, both of which I would not get until the business with the Warden's was finished.

Having done the best we could and with a lingering look to me, Solas leads my mount to a roped off area to amble with the other horses.

 _WHAT?! What?! What do you want?! BAH!_ My inner-self throwing their hands up in frustration at the vibes he was tossing around.

With a _tsk_ , I walk to my pack, riffling through until soap and dirty clothes are located. Piling everything into my blankets, I trudge as far downstream as the little brook would allow. Plopping down in the center and dropping my things in the water to wash. Making it a point to keep my back to the camp as I set about occupying myself with the menial task of cleaning.

It was exhausting and my energy plummeted swiftly but I stick with it, wanting something to do. The corruption had settled to staying at a muted throbbing with only an occasional building of pain. However they were becoming farther and farther apart and did not have nearly the same punch as before. Now the fatigue seemed to come from being in the stages of recovery and from the lack of eating more than anything.

Just as I finish my bedding and start to collect everything, hearty hails go up in the camp. Twisting around, I see Cassandra's team riding down the steep slope.

Dumping my soaked bundle with a wet _splat_ on a nearby boulder, I join the others to wait for them.

"How was it?" I ask as the team dismounts.

"Oh the Plains was a magical experience. It had everything one could possibly want. Festering, unwashed insurgents. Rotting dead things that popped forth like daisies...And let's not forget the beaming death ray that someone thought would be an excellent idea to play with. Yes, thank you, Solas, for suggesting that I accompany Cassandra on that venture. Truly a time to remember."

"That place went tits up. _Ugh!_ Group of wankers, that bunch. And what happened to you? You look like what Deathroot would be if it had legs."

"Too much Elven happy fun time." Chuckling at Sera's colorful description and deflecting the question.    

Releasing a gusty sigh, "We have done all that we can but it is unclear how long our efforts will last. Until the power struggle is resolved within the Orlesian palace, the fighting will only continue. Word has been sent for Cullen to send forces to help stabilize the area and hold the ramparts. The Inquisition will need to be the pillar that supports those people." Cassandra wearily states. "And the Champion? How are things with the Wardens?"

"Yeah...about that..." Walking beside Cassandra as the horses were led to the stream, I recap Harding's report for them all to hear.

According to what the scouts had been able to gather of the Western Approach so far, we had two routes that would take us in a more direct path to the Tevinter ruin. However both only offered the protection of the ravine for so long before opening up into true desert. With the sun soon to reach its zenith, it would be suicide for the horses and us to travel that expanse during the day.

Added to the fact Cassandra's group; not to mention their mounts, needed time to rest, our departure for the ritual site was put on hold for a few hours. We would stay until late afternoon and by the time we left the shelter of the gorge, it would be relatively safe to traverse the dunes.

Or as safe as riding through a desert full of creatures by moonlight could be.

Bless Vivienne and Dorian and their love of cleanliness. For it was them that rigged rope, blankets, and horses to make a screen so that the ladies and men could bathe. Since we weren't going anywhere, there was no excuse not to utilize the flowing water while we could.

Uninhibited, I briskly scrub down, quite used to bathing with the others at this point. Vivienne's composed self-assured voice drifts from the stream's edge. Her body reclining as if she were a Queen and regally rinsing her arms.

"Darling, don't think I have not noticed the peculiar aura your carrying. It's presence is subtle but it can't fool me." Her eyes narrow as she studies me as if I were a specimen. "Not possession...not the Blight either...Tell me, how did you come to house corruption?"

Sera stops splashing her face at the mention of possession, her body bolting upright. "What?! Herald's got a demon?! Where's my arrows!" Head swerving back and forth as she frantically searches for her bow.

"Calm yourself, Sera. Our Inquisitor is not possessed, she is as she has always been. The essence you sense is residual energy from the purification of a spirit. It is nothing in which you need concern yourself with, Enchanter." Solas' calm, clear tone carries over the blanket screen.

"You--you calm yourself! That's not normal!" She irritably throws back, but settles back to washing and leaves her bow where it lies among discarded clothes.

"Oh? And we should accept the word of an Apostate that it is so? There are no records of 'purifying' spirits as you put it. It is far more likely that it is a poison of the mind created by a demon."

"Ah, yes. I had forgotten the Circle teaches all there is to know about spirits. Forgive me, Enchanter, all those years spent learning the Fade must have confused me."

Trying not to laugh at Solas' sarcasm, I leave them to their squabble. Tugging on fresh clothes, I duck out of the little makeshift enclosure and toss my newly washed garb to join the rest of my gear drying on a scrawny tree.

Even in the shade of the ridge and absence of a breeze, it was hot enough that everything would dry well before we were ready to depart.

"Inquisitor, if you'd like, you and the rest may wish to relax in the tents. As warm as it, the cover does offer a little more comfort."

"Thanks, Harding." Smiling at her thoughtful suggestion and veering to do just that.

 

~

 

Rubble and stone languidly floats in a sky of swirling green. Waterfalls the color of emerald glass cascade from above as particles of magic zip to and fro excitedly as I stand in the Fade. As I extend a hand, they calm, satisfied by my touch.

I was too lazy to conjure our camp, instead I contented myself with walking the rocky path before me. Leaving my arm extended to absently trail my fingers through currents of magic as if I was running them through water.

Without a dream or memory to hide the scenery, the desolation and sense of loneliness of the Fade was blatantly apparent. Idly I wonder if it was only my opinion being reflected back at me or if perhaps mages and dreamers had become so indifferent that they did not see that the Fade should not be this way.

A lone elf sits upon stone steps as if they had been waiting. My face splits into a lopsided grin at the figure.

 _"Clothes, Larry!"_ I exclaim by way of greeting.

 _"Da'elgara."_ Smiling warmly as trousers and boots blink into existence to cover him.

 _"What's the word pretty bird?"_ Taking a seat next to him and propping my elbows on bent knees.

"I took the shape of one of the People, not a bird _._ " Frowning and tilting his head as he tried to puzzle out my welcome.

Cutting off my snorted laugh, I explain. _"It's word play. A figure of speech. I wasn't actually calling you a bird, Larry."_

"Oh. Like the wolf?" Expression clearing in understanding.

My smile falters at the mention of Solas. _"Yes. Like that."_

The frowned bewilderment returns as Larry gazes at me. "You are sad over the wolf, _da'elgara_. Why? He has been prowling the Fade waiting for you to come."

An eyebrow lifts as I look at Larry with skepticism. _"If that's the case then where is he?"_

"With the warrior who touched Faith. But-"

 _"It's okay, Larry. I'm working on it, you don't have to worry about it."_ Wanting to move away from the sore subject. No reason to lament and cry over spilled milk. It wasn't like it would change anything.

"That's wrong. It-"

_"Larry! It's fine. Drop it my man. Anyway you promised to tell me about the Void. Don't think I forgot about that."_

Larry _hmphs_ , his lips flattening into a sulky pout that brought to mind a butt-hurt teenager. I shut my mouth tight, trying not to laugh at his look.

After a few moments, he inhales deeply then sighs. Larry's expression turns to one of uncertainty as he stares down at the hands resting in his lap. "The Void was not always a prison. It is the lullaby for the end, the path all who fall must travel. Only those who hear the song or have knowledge of its existence can find the road. However great power is required to get there as well. You bear the mark of such knowledge, _da'elgara,_ but it was the song that lured you to the Void. Or perhaps your magic called to it. Regardless, the path is now open and you may find it easy to slip in. You must not, _da'elgara_. It is not a place for one such as you. Your light is a beacon that calls to all who wish freedom."

 _"You know of it, Larry. You came for me. How did you know?"_ I quietly ask. He was not Solas, there was no reason for me to ignore the half-answers or the omissions that I could clearly feel were there.

His fingers clench and his face becomes pained, "Because I lived there. I waited and guarded, lost to hopelessness. Then I saw you, _da'elgara_. A blazing nova that obliterated the gray, shining so brightly that it was blinding. It was a light that was familiar, one that I had yearned to meet again. I ran to follow it, to find it. Then there you were, _da'elgara_. However the light I believed to be the same was not. Though you shone as he did, yours is sparks and fire."

_"He? The soul like mine? Your creator. What happened to him? Why would you be in the Void, Larry?"_

His mouth opens wordlessly and a choked sound close to a sob comes out. Gritting his teeth, he swallows and tries again. "Aogan was alone and confused when he awoke in this world. Everything was strange, overwhelming, dazzling. He was an oddity, a puzzle that none could bring themselves to approach. Only one dared. It was a girl of such purity that he feared to draw too close lest he tarnish the beauty."

Larry's eyes, those beautiful emerald mirrors of an age long gone, took on a far-away quality, as if he was starting to lose himself within the memories. "Eyes of crystal gaze at me with curiosity, with ready acceptance. 'You are not alone, you are not alone.' A mantra she repeats, my life in her hands. Hands I would gladly follow to the gallows." He blinks, some of the light returning to his eyes as he continues as though he never slipped away.

"She taught him this world and stayed with him long after he found a place in it. He chose a life of peace even though he could do amazing magic the likes of which was rare. Aogan was of the Creators, but he held no desire for power. 'Do you not wish for more?' She would ask. 'No. I have you and that it all I need.' It made her happy." His voice barely more than a whisper as his shoulders hunch.

"You are so beautiful. I would give you the world if you so desired. _Ar lath ma, ar lath ma_. _"_ His face crumbling in sorrow.

"I was born for her, _da'elgara_. I remember this. Why? Why was I created if I could do nothing...." His head shook in denial as tears began to trail down handsome cheeks, and I could say nothing but offer him the silent comfort of my presence, letting him finish his story. My hand reached to tenderly comb the silken strands of his hair, wishing to do as my mother had once done for me when I was sad.

He swallows once again as my touch calms him. "A war was coming. Both were assured in their righteousness and believed in their justice. Word of Aogan had spread to their ears. They wanted his power, for it could shake the very world. Aogan said no, that he would fight no one's war." Watery eyes turn to me. "He said no."

Sadly I gaze at Larry, certain of what that refusal had meant.

"They were angered by his rejection. They knew his weakness, they captured his heart to force him to fight. They bound me where I stood." His eyes stare into the distance, a fury held within their light as a determined expression surfaced on striking features. "I will not surrender, never his weakness. You will not use me to break him." Hands fist at his temples, his expression twisting to despair. "She used their blade to die. Aogan...Aogan held her as she died. He used all the power he could, but he didn't know how to save her. He begged, he yelled to the Heavens for them to save her. But they stood and let it happen. Blamed him for the murder. His grief, his sorrow, it consumed him. He let himself disappear, he no longer desired this world."

His hands fell, and he looked to me once again, misery and acceptance swimming in his eyes. "Aogan's magic raged through the land, sundering the very world in his pain and madness. Great generals and the strongest of the People came together to stop him. In the end, his soul was destroyed, but not all. A small piece refused to die, to disappear into nothingness. It lingered and clawed its way to the depths of the Void. Desiring despair and madness upon a world that had killed its heart."

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, trying not to cry for the disgusting waste such as his loss was.

_"The Blight. He is the source of the Blight isn't he?"_

"Yes, _da'elgara_. His soul is but a shadow of what it once was. Twisted and warped. When the Forgotten were imprisoned, they knew it's power would be coveted. They used it against the _others_ and used their greed against them."

_"And you, you stayed with him, Larry? Why?"_

"He is my Creator but more than this...he was my friend." His voice breaking as he finally lets himself succumb to his grief.

 _"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."_ Bringing his head to rest on my shoulder as great gasping sobs wrecked his tall frame. Quietly I rock him, allowing silent tears of my own to mutely fall for the utter squander of life and love.

All in the name of a faction's repulsive greed for power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Da'elgara: (Elven) Little Sun  
> Ar lath ma: (Elven) I love you


	32. Chapter 32

I cover my eyes with a hand as silent tears streak down the side of my face. Quietly laying on a cot as the noise of a busy camp preparing for departure filters into the warm tent.

Cole's solemn words drift unbidden into my mind as I cry for Larry's loss. _Salvation or destruction._

_Which will I create when I die?_

If an original soul had the capacity to leave something in this world when it died, what would I potentially leave? There was nothing to push me into the utter despair Aogan had felt, but neither was I naive enough to think that whatever emotion came with my demise would be benevolent. I wanted to live too badly. I fought and struggled too fiercely to willing succumb to death. What kind of sentiment that would birth, I was not certain of, and I could only pray that it was not something to rival the Blight.

_Is this how the Blight is supposed to come about? Or did Aogan's arrival somehow change the course of history? And if that's true, then what have I set in motion? I may be playing along with the timeline now but that's only so long as it gets me to what I want. What happens when I go with Solas? Do I cause this world go tits up in confusion because that's not what the 'Inquisitor' is supposed to do?_

It also begged the question of whether all timelines were this way, or if perhaps I had merely been unlucky and got dumped into the shitty one. Other real souls, Blight, become the Inquisitor--yup, hit the cluster bomb trifecta on this one.

 _This crap is turning into the Butterfly Effect._ I grumpily think with a raspberry sound.

Sitting up, I wipe my tears with the back of my hand as I vacantly stare into space. Lost to my unending questions.

"Are you all right?" Cassandra asks as she holds open the tent flap. Her voice bringing me out of my funk.

Sighing, I comb a hand through my hair and stand, "yeah. Just bad dreams. Is it time?" She nods, accepting my response and pushing no further as we step out into the bright afternoon sun. Most of the horses were already saddled with packs strapped down when I glance at our gathering squad.

In a hurry I collect my dried gear, stuffing them into my travel bag and tossing it next to my mount while I went in search for my saddle.

"Vints sniffing around old ruins spells trouble. Could be worthwhile to see what's got their dresses in a bunch." Leaning down and lifting the saddle for me.

"True. The presence of my countrymen is highly suspicious. Corypheus wouldn't send them out to the middle of nowhere for nothing."

"If the Venatori seek something here, it may merit investigation." Solas casually advises with reins in hand as he throws in with Dorian and Bull.

"It doesn't take us out of the way, so why not?" I find myself blurting before I even realize what I'm agreeing to.

_Demons. A fuck-ton of demons...Way to go._

Rolling my eyes in disbelief at myself as I bend for my bag so no one sees.

~

Hooves sink and dig in as our horses push to crest a sandy incline. Wide open desert can be seen in the distance as the ravine ends not too far from us, signs of the ruins or any Venatori had yet to be spotted as the mounts slide and pick their way over the dune.

Half-way down, a break in the rock wall looming around us becomes apparent, revealing sparse plant life and a few trees growing in the hollow of the gorge. A fortress built of greens, yellows, and grey stone stands nestled in the horseshoe shaped space, its sharp spires rising from amid jagged ramparts, lending it an air of menacing doom and age.

We halt our horses out of sight of the ruins and hug the ravine wall as we inch our way to get a view of the clearing. Men and women stood amongst supply crates before a large archway, talking and only partially keeping watch in their ease. The distance from them to us was going to leave us exposed and eliminated any chance of a surprise attack. No, we would need the rogues to stealth as close as they could and rush while the rest took the heat.

Just as my lips part to say just that, I keel over with a _puh_ as magic enthusiastically comes slamming back. Callused hands grasp me as I blink, and shake my head as I awkwardly straighten.

"You okay, Boss?"

"Fi~ne." Clearing my throat when my voice cracks, "fine."

 _Little warning next time, Solas!_ Sparing the time to give him the stink eye before I suggest a plan of attack.

Weapons unsheathe and spells flare to life around me. I concentrate, focusing on materializing a Spirit Blade as everyone prepares for the skirmish. It takes me precious minutes to conjure it, my skill still too lacking to perform it during the bedlam of battle.

"Uhh...we-we are just going to ignore that..." I say when it forms in my hand, not missing the others who eyed it suspiciously. A translucent claymore of incandescent blue shimmers just as it always has in my palm, except veins of sinister black raced along its blade before disappearing almost as soon as they are emerged, and only then to dawn once more to run down in an endless cycle.

"Right...ignoring the creepy darkness...Got it, Boss." Flexing and stretching his shoulders as he gets ready to charge.

Clouds of smoke billow out as Cole, Varric, and Sera vanish. Rolling my neck, I hoist the claymore to my shoulder, giving Vivienne a cocky grin. "Ready to rumble, Viv?"

"Dear, you'll be lucky if there's anything left for you." She airily replies as her body seemingly blinks out of existence.  

With a snorted "Ha!", I Fade Step away. Knowing I would get there first thanks to my speed.

My body is little more than a blur as it zips across the clearing. Magic happily heeding the call as I channel more and more to keep the phase going. The blitz is noticed too late as I slide out of Fade Step, pivoting my hips and shoulders like a baseball player to cleave a stunned Spellbinder. Brilliant white light flares beneath me at the same time my sword slices through the woman's bicep to lodge in her ribs. Intense cold and the feeling of needle-like jabs knifes into my legs and chest as an explosion of magic flings me backwards.

I bounce and skid across the gritty earth, flipping my legs up and over to roll into a crouch, using my hands to create drag in order to come to a stop. Ice cracks and splinters as I stand, phasing to duck under the downward swing of a mace. Hands empty with the loss of Spirit Blade, I grip the man's forearm with my right and enhance palm strike his shoulder before heel kicking the back of his knee to topple him as the force of my hit breaks bone.  

Two arrows pierce his unprotected neck with a wet thunk in fast succession as he falls. Letting him go, I take stumbling steps back and prepare for another attack.

Nothing remains of the Venatori guard as I scan the clearing with heaving pants. Fighting the desire to crouch or sit down from the icy pain in my legs and chest, I advance, knowing I needed to walk it off to stay warm.

"Funny that the ones with shields are the ones who follow the Mages into battle." Blackwall quietly chuckles as he steps over the body of a robed woman. "How's the cold?"

Placing a hand high on the stone archway and leaning into it with the other on my hip, I tilt my head back. "Well, I now know what it feels like to be so cold your lady balls hurt. I will never snicker at you guys again when one of you says your balls are freezing." Putting both hands on the stone and dropping my head as I squeeze my thighs together to warm up.

"Colorful." Vivienne drolly comments, sauntering to the barrier that separated us from the fortress bailey.

Pushing off and hopping a few times, I stride over to help the others already flicking energy to bust it down. Fire wasn't particularly my thing but I stepped up to add my own little flaming spheres anyway. All the while trying not to pay attention to the extra dose of heat that layered Solas' magic, or that his movements held a deadly grace to them that was quite mesmerizing.

A ripple waves out from the center of the barrier in heartbeats of our combined assault. Its pale, glittering magic dissolving like a vapory mist to reveal a single Spellbinder. Spears of solid ice hurl straight for us before the barrier even evaporates, the mage having been prepared for its failure.

Unknowingly I phase to stand in front of Solas, tensing in expectation of a hard impact.

Barriers of our own slam down, deflecting his magic like it was nothing. At the foiled surprise attack and seeing that he was far outnumbered, he Fade Step's in an attempt to escape.

Wanting to face-palm myself in embarrassment, I phase to cut him off.

_Oh my god...What the fuck did I just do? Ugh...please, please no one notice what I did..._

Both of our Fade Step's jarringly collide when I close-line the Spellbinder in the throat, flipping him onto his back. Wasting none of the dazed shock, I enhance stomp with enough force to break his neck.

"What? I don't warrant an Elven shield? I'm hurt." Dorian exclaims in mock indignation and places a hand on his heart as everyone joins me in the inner ward.

"Oh~ Solas! I'll save your boring breeches!" Sera mimics with a dramatic shout.

_Knew I wouldn't get off that easy._

"Just get in the Ruins of Calamity." Chuckling and pinching the bridge of my nose as I feel my face lighting up like a Christmas tree.

Refusing to look anywhere but at the massive metal door, I shove alongside Bull and Blackwall. Ominous clinks and the grind of antiquity echoes in the still foyer, a ghostly call to all that the gates had been breached. Right hand out at my side, I gather magic for a blade as I cautiously stride through the vestibule.

"Holy shit..." I mumble when I get a gander at the inside of the fortress.

From the outside it had resembled a 'ruin' in name only. The stone and structure appearing quite sound. In reality the halls and ceiling was a collapsing death trap. Rubble and shattered pillars lay scattered across the sandy tiled floor. Sections of wall look as though they had been smashed out, blocking entry into many a door and corridor.

Great gaping holes in the high vaulted ceiling allow for the late afternoon sun to shine in. Rays of light bounce off crumbling stone suspended eerily midair, seeming that they would fall at any second. The disconnect of knowing they should be plummeting but having them disturbingly floating in halted suspension makes me glance up frequently and walk under them nervously.

However that wasn't the worst of it. No, it was the dozens of demons locked in battle with Venatori troops poised to strike and an abnormally large rift glowing in the middle of a deteriorating grand hall.

"Slowing time like this...it would require great power. This may be what drew the Venatori." Sounding way too impressed and delighted. Rolling my eyes at Solas' enthusiasm, I sidle up to a Sloth demon to tentatively poke it with Spirit Blade.

 _"Nrugh!_ Demons..." Bull growls as he eyes the motionless creatures with distrust.

"They need arrows. Lots and lots of arrows." Giving them a wide berth while keeping her bow drawn and at the ready.

Feeling decidedly creeped out at having demons surrounding me and falling rubble above my head, I walk over to the rift and gingerly 'touch' it with the anchor. The sensation of prodding the equivalent of a gelatinous blob comes, thwarting my attempt to connect with the rift. A Despair demon hangs near the rift, its cowled head downturned. Leaning in, I peer at its face in weirded-out fascination. A face sunken in and shriveled as though severely dehydrated glares back. There were no visible eyes or lips, instead a peeled back gum line exposed its teeth in a permanent macabre grin.

"Woof...damn you ugly." Giving a disgusted shudder as I step away.

We move through the grand chamber, dodging around debris and halted figures. I back peddle as I eye a rather huge piece of floating slab of stone, tripping over my feet and colliding with a half-crouched Terror.

Hopping back with startled squeak, I ironically comment, "anyone else have a sneaky suspicion that we're going to get reamed by demons?"

"Speak for yourself, Boss. I prefer to do the reaming." With a cheeky smirk, Bull winks at Dorian. Earning a snorted laugh from me as an exasperated groan comes from behind us in response.

Gold plated statues of roaring Griffons stand guard over a hallway. Its way open with shafts of light pouring in from the opposite end. Silently we prowl in only to exit into a huge courtyard. Steep stairs lead down to a landing stretching to span the edge of the square. Ever present demons and Venatori paused in battle decorate the platform and yard, drawing attention away from an inner chamber across the courtyard, its door visibly locked and sealed. Lush trees and foliage ring the quad, giving the space an atmosphere of an oasis within these desert ruins.  

Voices can be heard drifting over the balcony railing. Inching out of the hall's shadow and descending a few steps, we could see a group of Venatori gathered to listen to a brightly robed figure. A horned cowl made to intimidate covered his face, but its apparent from the harsh tone that he was less than happy.

Tightening my grip on my claymore, "think you can keep up, Bull?"

"Ha! Killing Vints is my specialty." Hefting the heavy axe with a flex of his fingers.

"Then mayhem ho!"         

Fade Stepping to dash down the first set of stairs to run along the platform, I push off as hard as I can, bounding from the stone railing, back arcing as I raise my claymore over my head. Faces turn upwards as I crash down in the midst of the Venatori, blade splitting through a man's clavicle to sternum. With a yank and vicious kick to dislodge my sword, I bend backwards to avoid a side swipe. Gripping the hilt with both hands, I twist my torso to swing out in a wide sweep. Knocking the incoming daggers and swords away.

Grunts and yells carry from nearby, signifying I wasn't alone in the middle of the fray.

Sparkling, dancing magic covers me as arrows and spears of energy zing. Quickly parrying left and right to make space, I phase to the archer hiding behind a frozen demon. Slamming into her with my shoulder to her stomach, causing her to stumble backwards. Retreating a pace, I slash up, cutting the woman from midriff to chin.

Another ping of energy hitting me in the back spins me around. I Fade Step to slide into a diagonal uppercut, my claymore whiffing as the Venatori leader phases away.

Cassandra lunges, cutting him off. Thrusting her sword straight through his back to impale him. Blood spills from his mouth as he grasps the blade in astonishment, an expression of shock on his weathered face as slowly he sunk to his knees, and toppling face first to the ground when Cassandra jerks her blade from him.

Sticking the tip of my claymore to the ground at an angle, I lean heavily against it. Using it to keep me upright as I stand before the inner chamber stairs. Breathes wheezing out as my legs tremble from the strain of fighting.

Not wanting to keel over, I give up and sit down where I stand, letting Spirit Blade dissolve. Where my magic was rearing to go, my body was not. Recovering from the corruption and lack of eating having placed a severe limit on my stamina. This short bout of exercise had drained me to the point that I was feeling sick.

"You good?" Varric asks with a once over.

"Yup. Just seeing how the other half lives." I answer with a teasing grin.

"You realize you're not that much taller don't you?" Shaking his head good-naturedly at me.

"He was carrying this stone on him. It appears to be important." Cassandra calls from her knelt position over the Venatori leader, holding up a faintly glowing lump of rock in her fist.

Striding to Cassandra and taking the stone in his hands, Solas only does a cursory glance before handing it back.

"It bears a distinct pattern. A keystone perhaps. Presumably to unlock the chamber above us. There should be other fragments nearby."

_Ah, man. Really? The part about finding pieces was real? Ugh..._

Already starting to lethargically lumber to my feet when Dorian halts me with a wave of his hand to sit myself back down. "It's a treasure hunt. If we need something blasted into oblivion, we'll call you."

Tiredly I plop back down and slide on my butt to sit on the stairs to wait. The others spread out, leaving me to awkwardly lay back and close my eyes. A spark of awareness races over me as a presence silently takes a seat beside me. Cracking an eye open, I gaze up at Solas' calm profile as he cradles his staff in the circle of his arms.

"You're sitting out on exploring old ruins? Do you feel sick or something?" Only half joking.

"The true worth of this place lies behind us. I suspect if there was anything else of note here, it has long been scavenged by treasure seekers."

 _Uh huh. Yeah. Like you don't have a good idea of what's sitting behind that door._ Face contorting into an 'are you kidding me' expression before I smooth it so he doesn't notice.

"So you decided to babysit instead." Sitting up to prop my elbows on my knees.

"Hardly." Amusement flickering over his face for a moment before it turns solemn, and the gaze that shifted to me was one of composed purpose. "Back in the Plains, it was not my intent to deny you."

Giddy joy and fluttery anticipation hit me at the admission. But I taper it down, needing to be sure before I let myself get carried away.

"You didn't have second thoughts? Didn't change your mind about me after all this time?"

His eyes wander across my face as he hesitates, considering his words carefully before he chose to speak. "We are in the midst of a war that could potentially consume all of Thedas. People should seize any chance for a moment's respite in times such as these."

"That's not an answer." Lifting an eyebrow and placing chin in hand.

Lids lower the barest fraction and he tilts his head in a brief expression of uncertainty of whether he should continue. "It would be foolish to disregard your glaring peculiarities, however indecision is a distraction. One that is pointless as you have my respect. You have shown an unyielding strength in your actions. A subtle care for those close to you. Any reservations I may have harbored pale in comparison to such resolve."

"My actions changed your mind...Like what I did for Wisdom." Keeping my face cool and collected.

"Partly, yes."

"Ah." Nodding my head firmly and shifting my gaze to the courtyard. Inhaling deeply with a "Hmm," I stand with hands on my hips. "So now that I saved your friend my faults are suddenly fine. I see." Turning to look down at his frowning face, "Solas. You can cram your charity where the sun don't shine. I don't want affection born from appreciation."

Solas stands, throwing his hands in the air in frustrated disbelief, his head shaking at what he liably thought nonsense. Jaw tense and lids lowered in anger, he steps into my space, "at what point did I say this?"

A loud _ahem_ stops my irked retort. "Really hate to interrupt the lover's spat, but we found your keystone." Waving a glowing tablet at us.

With a last fuming glance at Solas, I pivot to trudge up the steps to the inner chamber, contorting and twisting my body to avoid touching stationary Venatori. At the oddly shaped door, Blackwall hands me the tablet. The strange markings and grooves flaring with a lime green light as gears clank and grind.

Flecks of red gather and mist in the small chamber. Drifting more densely in the center of the stale room, collecting around a ghostly orb. Its ethereal shine obscured by black, as if it was experiencing an eclipse. A staff stands erect below it, suspended by whatever power gripped these ruins as a set of talons clutch the diminutive skull of a human in lieu of a power stone, giving it a ghastly appearance.

Bodies bloodied and butchered lay upon the raised dais, piled under the staff like a grisly offering. Goosebumps rise at the disturbing tingle passing through the mist creates, my eyes wandering upwards when I see the wreckage littering the tile floor.

"A staff...is this the cause of all this? Interesting." Dorian mumbles as he peers at the morbid weapon, bubbing his chin in thought as he studied it and the ball of energy.

"Everyone out," face turned heavenwards as I eye the collapsing ceiling above me.

"Don't go poking around! You don't have to see blood wafting in the air like farts to know this place is wrong!" Sera calls from the doorway.

"Have I ever given the impression I'm put off by stupid ideas?" Grinning as I take a runner's stance and reach my hand out, ready to snatch the staff as the team backs away.

"If you feel you must, then be wary. It may still be bound to the magic used here." Shifting his gaze from me to the falling roof. Extending his left hand in preparation to catch the heavy stone.

Pointedly looking at Solas, I shove through the thick magic, wrapping my fingers around the wood's shaft. Energy exploded outward in an expanding bubble as I try to phase away, laying everyone within the chamber out flat, and flinging me to skid across the floor as rubble cascades from above. Great clouds of dust and sand creating a smoke screen as coughs and groans fill the room.

Shrill shrieks and screaming cries of horror echo outside as demons and Venatori alike are released from their immobile positions.

"Sounds like time is flowing again." Cassandra coughs.

"See what happens when you poke at things?! _Ugh!"_ Already loosening arrows out the door to pierce whatever was in the courtyard.

Jumping to my feet, I move to a dazed Solas who was in the process of picking himself up. "Here. For you." Thrusting the eerie staff at him and dashing to join the warriors outside.

Most of the demons had already been dealt with as I exit, the majority having been paused in the grand hall. Down I phase, leaping off the stairs to kick a Shade into Bull's range. His axe swinging in a broad sweep to slice clean through.

Stabbing her blade into another, "getting out of here and sealing that rift is going to be a challenge." Cassandra states with a grunt as screeches reverberate from inside the ruins.

"We won't be doing it alone," Dorian confidently declares when the last demon dissolves. Swirling shades of lavender encompass his arm as tiny wisps materialize and settle into the corpses of the Venatori. Like marionettes they rise, disjointedly jerking and lifting their weapons, prepared to heed the orders of their puppeteer.

Sera cringes in disgust at the show of power as the others come down to gather with us. As one we move to climb the stairs, letting the dead Venatori take lead and provide a buffer against the army of demons inside.

My claymore forms, bright and sinister within the hall, Dorian's puppets faintly illuminating the darkening ruins with their ghostly auras as we step to follow in their wake. Echoing shrieks resound at our entrance, and bodies tensing, the warriors and I close in behind the corpses as Vivienne and Cole vanish to blitz whatever came at us first.

"CRAAAAAAPP!" Bull growls as beams of green shine in front of the Venatori while even more come from directly behind us simultaneously.

I Fade Step through the protective line of corpses, passed the Terror's springing from the floor, getting out of range of the pressure generated from their shrieks. Dorian's puppets and the team go down like dominos as five Terrors throw their heads back, screeching and heaping their force together. Unable to escape before the cries, their cloaked forms become visible as Vivienne and Cole struggle against the weight spawned by the combined assault.

I bend back as I dodge incoming talons, swiping diagonally upwards as I straighten. Shallowly slicing a Shade across its torso as more Shades slither to converge en masse. Grasping the hilt with both hands, I step in for an overhead chop at the Shades gathering. Fluidly pivoting to slice out to my right then left. Slashing and hacking as if I was a lumberjack, keeping myself in continuous motion to avoid being overrun.

Pointing the tip down and contorting my torso, I parry outwards in a roundhouse, pushing demons back and creating some breathing room.

Heavily armored figures bash their way to my side, stabbing out to finish off stunned opponents. Green flares in my peripheral as an encumbering pressure slams me face down, forcing the loss of Spirit Blade as I struggle to push against the waves pinning me.

The shrill shriek is cut short as Bull jumps into an overhead swing with a yell, splitting the Terror's head clean down the middle to lodge in its neck.

Feeling squished, I lumber to weary feet. Stamina already draining to a point I was worried over how I was going to make it to the rift. There were still dozens of demons within the grand hall to fight through before we were even close enough for the anchor to connect. Panting, I glance behind to check on how the rogues and mages were faring.

Two Terrors had them pinned to the floor. Solas bodily covered Sera to shield her as a Terror kept up the crushing pressure, the other raising both of its giant clawed mitts to rend through flesh and muscle.

 _"AH, HELL NAH!"_ Fade Stepping and lowering my shoulder to enhance tackle the Terror straight in the chest.

We go down in a tangle of rough limbs, my hands and legs scrambling to disentangle myself without getting ripped apart. A talon brutally grasps me as whirling ripples of green washes over the stone and me along with it, the impression of sinking an utterly unmistakable sensation assailing me.

_"SH-"_

"NO!" Feeling fingers desperately attempt to latch onto my calf.

 _"-IT!"_ I choke out just as I'm flung like stale chips, and twist to take the impact with my shoulder, and rolling into it.

_The fuck?! They can port people?! Fuck Terrors!_

Quickly I hop to my feet, my mind registering I was in a very bright spot which causes me to stare above.

_Holy balls it's the rift..._

Freezing cold stabs into my kidneys, putting me on my knees at the shock of it. Gasping in pain, I phase in an attempt to get away and back to the others.

I get only a few feet before searing agony rips along my side, tripping me as I scream. Holding my waist I scramble to Fade Step, my body collapsing as an ankle is seized in a grinding grip and I'm bodily dragged back. Claws like knives rack down the back of my thighs, causing an answering cry to pass my lips at the sensation of muscle tearing. The sounds of fighting and shouts of frustrated anger growing louder at my cries.

I twist around, trying to hurl magic to get the Terror away. Its howled shriek flattens me down again as cold penetrates my chest, the jabbing numbness making my heart feel like it was fluttering, stunning me. Talons mercilessly take advantage, slashing across my midriff and arms as I curl in to protect the tender flesh. I shove magic at the Terror randomly, making it stumble back so I can use adrenaline and desperation to get to my knees.

Frantic, I Fade Step again, falling over debris and rushing to get to my feet once again. A shocked, gasped cry escapes as my body jolts from an impact from behind.

Razor like digits thrust through ribs on the right side, impaling me as I look down in disbelief, coughing as blood fills my torn lung and slowly drowns me. Viciously I'm lifted in the air, ribs and muscle breaks from holding my weight as hands reflexively grab at the claws piercing me, my tortured screams now coming out as a gargled squeals as blood spills from my mouth.

Green smoke billows just as daggers smoothly stab in swift succession on either side of the Terror's gut, before cruelly twisting the blades to inflict maximum damage. The Terror rears back in pain, pitching me away as Cole ruthlessly jerks his weapons free. I bounce and roll on the tile, listlessly coming to a stop on my belly. Noise, the clash of battle, everything appears muffled. As though I was underwater. Blearily I move my head to see Cole.

He pivots and glides, deflecting sharp talons and tail alike with his daggers. Slashing out when an opening presented itself, keeping the Terror occupied and away from me.

A ray of ice smacks into Cole, making him arch back in pain. The Terror trips Cole with his tail, dropping him where he stands. Claws slash out, intending to shred him. With a _poof_ he vanishes in a cloud of smoke, materializing in Despair's blind spot to cut it down.

In a fog, I perceive the rift looming nearby. Knowing the demons would be never ending until it was sealed.

My left hand twitches and flops as I try to lift it. Feeling as though it weighed a ton. Limply it raises, the anchor puttering weakly but unable to connect.

Spurred by stubbornness and a desire for vengeance, I claw and drag myself closer to the rift. Fingers slipping in blood, my blood, trying to find purchase. Bloody spittle dripping from the herculean effort to keep going as breathes puff in choked gasps.

_...shit..._

Collapsing as the last of my energy leaves me. The rift was so tauntingly close and I prayed it was enough as I try to connect from my prone position.

_hehe...suck it bitches...I win..._

Weakly smirking in triumph as the anchor flares, its normally angry vibration a dull hum to muddled senses.

My eyes drift shut in weariness, the snap and pop of a successful seal never registering.


	33. Chapter 33

Knees bend to absorb the blow of deadly talons against her shield. Her arm pushing outwards to deflect the appendage as Cassandra lunges to thrust her sword into the Terror. Its body convulsing and disintegrating at the lethal attack.

Dorian's puppets had long been torn apart to the point they could no longer serve as a diversion. Forcing the team to carry on alone.

Tortured cries come from ahead, driving everyone to fight harder, trying to vainly press through the throng of demons to get to them. Faces taking on a hard edge as the screams become fainter and farther apart.

Even in the heat of battle, Cassandra notes Cole's absence. His presence having vanished soon after the Inquisitor was taken. The mages duck and strike out, buffeting the demons with magic right alongside the warriors. Setting the pace for our push as Solas viciously pummels the enemy ranks, drawing ahead while we inadvertently follow in his wake.

Shrieks and roars echo in the chamber as a thunderous crackling snap reverberates. Swiftly accompanied by an explosion of demon and Fade bits fluttering in the air.

Solas took off in a mad sprint before the demons even begin to crumble. Rushing through the fragments and over debris as the rest of us run to trail behind while frantic shouts for help from Cole spurred everyone to charge faster.

"Maker..."

What greets her as she runs around a pillar has Cassandra lowering her shield and looking away in sad horror.

Her friend lies motionless in a large pool of blood, left arm extended in the direction the rift had once been. A thick track of red covers the floor behind her. Clawing prints of blood marking her struggle to drag her mangled body. Solas slides to a halt next to her, grim determination etched into his tense face. However Cassandra could see the sorrow his eyes were unable to hide. Cole knelt to soothingly caress her hair, staring down unwaveringly at her face, repeating that she was to stay.

Tingling magic densely fills the air as Solas tries to mend the damage, the energy astonishingly potent but one Cassandra does not question in this moment. Vivienne and Dorian quickly skid to a halt, adding their own power.

Her brow creased in grief. There was so much blood. So much torn flesh. The others silently stood alongside in a mournful vigil as they too watch magic desperately poured into her. As Lyrium potions are hastily chugged when mana reserves begin to deplete, unwilling to give up yet.

Some turn away, shaking their head in regret at the scene. Others close their eyes in heartbreaking acceptance.

Suddenly the sound of gurgled coughs shatter the weighty stillness. The pained noise a blessed relief to everyone's ears.

With a silent prayer of thanks, Cassandra shuts her eyes, the heavy lump in her throat and chest disappearing at the struggling breaths.

~

Intense, numbing cold imprisons me in a floating fog, towing me down. Just as instinct drives me to fight against it. My mind still present enough to wrestle away from the impending descent into death.  

_...not yet, not here...the rift is still there..I have to close it. There's still things I need to do here...not yet..._

An invisible force shoves through the haze, compelling me to latch on. A tether to haul me to the surface if I would but accept it.

"-re." Drowsily my eyes open to look up at Cole as I valiantly strive to breathe. Wheezing gurgles and strained choking the only reward for my effort. "Here. Stay here. You must stay here." Penetrating crystal blue eyes hold me captive in their steady gaze, forbidding me to look away as he continues his mantra.

My coughs grow stronger as heat knits together ripped flesh, blood spitting up in an attempt to clear my mending lung. Cole soothingly pets my hair as magic is relentlessly pressed into my body, his chant gradually coming to a halt as wounds shut and the flow of blood is stemmed. Eventually blinking and releasing me from his compulsion but maintaining the comforting caress.

I blink lethargically, shifting my gaze to see the figures hunched over me; or at least one of them. Thankfully someone had the presence of mind to lay me on my side to prevent the blood from suffocating me.

A frown creases Solas' brow in stern concentration, his mouth set in a grim line. Warm energy pulses from his left hand hovering over my bleeding torso to ceaselessly race through me. Its poignant heat never wavering even as severe exhaustion clearly bracketed his closed eyes.

"...th-the...rift..." Voice hoarse and little more than a thready mumble. Feebly moving blood-spattered fingers to touch his knee.

Beautiful grey eyes snap open at the contact, his features losing some of the harshness as he looks down at me. "Sealed."

"Shit. Thought for sure you were a goner, Boss. If I didn't know any better, I would think you were Qunari."

"Nutters, you're friggin' nutters...Don't do that again!" The angry words unable to hide Sera's relief.

"Sorry. I think I'm at my limit." Dorian's worn-out voice says behind me as his dancing magic grudgingly draws away.

A few heartbeats more and Vivienne's strict energy follows suit. "You're no longer in danger but do try to avoid jumping on anything else until we finish patching you up."

Fuzzily I grin, lifting my hand in a thumbs up.

"Seeker, a poultice if you would." Inclining his head to me, his magic lingering until he reluctantly shifts away to give Cassandra room.

"This will alleviate the dizziness." Assisting me to sit and passing a small vial filled with crimson liquid.

My eyes drift over the gruesome floor and myself, taking in the sheer amount of blood. It was miraculous someone had made it to me in time to keep me from bleeding out. From the appearance of everything and the extreme grogginess I felt, it had been a very near thing. In the real world even the presence of a hospital and medical equipment wouldn't have saved me.  

Shuddering at the close call, I tip the bottle back. It was like swallowing a filmy, sour, expired smoothie. My face instantly skewing into a revolted grimace at the taste and consistency but I force myself to drink the vile thing down.

"We've been here too long, we need to get moving soon if we're going to make it across that desert." Blackwall states with a look to the dimming sunlight filtering from the gaping hole in the ceiling. 

Nodding in agreement, I accept Cassandra's unspoken offer and put an arm across her shoulders. She hauls me upright, using her strength to be my crutch as we lumber out of the old ruins.

As disturbingly gross that tonic was, it was indeed improving my lightheadedness from the blood loss. It was the first time drinking a health potion and I had wondered what exactly it did since everyone still required one of the mages to fix them up. Now I believed I had a pretty good idea of its purpose.

Regardless of whatever else it was supposed to do, it super charged blood synthesis. Making the body go into production overdrive. It wouldn't stop you from bleeding or anything, but at least it could give you the extra time you needed to find a healer before exsanguinating. 

"If you could ready the horses," Cassandra gestures to the others with her head, "Sera, will you bring the Inquisitor's down?" She turns us when we pass under the stone arches outside, bringing me to stand next to the tiny moat encompassing the front of the fortress. "You may wish to rinse some of the blood and you need to change into something that isn't showing your backside." Cassandra teasingly smirks.

I sway when I pull away, her hands hovering close to catch me should I fall. One hand keeps a steady hold of Cassandra's shoulder as I tug off my boots. She hadn't been kidding about my clothes I noted with a touch of humor as the material wetly clings to my body as I peel it off. Straps and sections of the halter had been torn, exposing quite a bit of side and under breast. If I was in an energetic mood, a hop would set the girls free for all to see. The trousers weren't in much better shape either. Rips from mid-butt cheek to knee having allowed for a rather airy breeze.

Tottering into the shallow water, I sit in the center, using my hands to rinse as best I could while Cassandra helped with my back. Randomly I wonder if my gloves were rust resistant as even they get a rub down.

Clouds of pink surround me when Sera arrives with our mounts. Without the coat of blood, deep bruising and freshly closing wounds could clearly be seen against my pale skin. The vivid purples, greens, and reds easily spotted even in the fading light. I imagined I looked like someone had taken a barbwire bat to my front and arms. My back was anyone's guess but I was sure it would probably match the rest. 

Tired but not dizzy anymore, I get up, hiding the throbbing ache and pain I felt inside and out. Knowing everyone would feel bad enough when they got a gander of the damage still present without the added guilt of seeing me wincing. I hadn't been the only one injured, only the most critical and the mages' mana reserves had all gone to saving me.

They still had to help the rest of the squad besides me and they needed time to recover to do that. Piling remorse on them wasn't going to accomplish anything. I chose to fight, I chose to test limits. Any repercussions were my own and not anyone's fault but mine.

Showing none of the discomfort caused by bending and moving, I dress under the watchful gaze of Cassandra, leaving my soaked and tattered clothes where they lay.

At the sight of the others patiently gathered, I grip the saddle horn. Blowing out a gust of air to steel myself. With a mighty heave I hoist up, throwing a leg over to clumsy seat myself. I see the second my wounds are observed as we join them, their eyes zeroing in on the glaring color. Wordlessly I direct my horse forward to lead the way, not giving them a chance to comment.

~

Riding through the sand dunes at night was proving to be less than perfect.

Substantial cloud cover produced stretches of almost complete pitch darkness. Even unobscured, the moon was in a Waxing Crescent phase, granting only muted light. Rifts were virtually a flashing neon sign in the night. Ones that left me blinking and having to readjust to the black with each seal.

Even as tired as the team was, closing rifts was a priority to them. Vivienne, Solas, and Dorian had it the worst though they tried to conceal it. Any mana they managed to accumulate was quickly depleted as they endeavored to keep us afloat. Flinging spells to keep demons down with each rift while making their rounds through the companions to heal injuries from earlier in the day as we rode.

I shoo away Dorian as once again one of them sidled up to heal me. Finding it impractical to fix the mage before the people who actually needed to move in order to fight.

"It sings. Twisted and dark, wrong. Far, far below where we shouldn't reach."

Cole's cryptic voice comes from somewhere in the night along with the sensation of eyes tracking our progress. Eyes that stalked its prey and watched, waiting for its moment. They were the same that had been with us for half the night, usually accompanied by a fervent rambling from Cole.

Senses remain on high alert just as they had since the first prickle of awareness of the presence had been felt. Mentally draining us further while we anticipated and prepared for the inevitable assault.

Unsettlingly, none comes.

As black gives way to grey, they leave us. Large boulder formations and the expansive dunes beginning to become visible the longer we pushed. The clopping of hooves over stone rings as a patchy cobbled road appears underfoot. Its destination a structure of fateful doom hanging over a vast canyon.

Immense sandstone arches guard an extensive bridge leading to a suspended open-aired temple. Massive plated statues stand at attention atop weathered pillars, banners faded from years in the sun limply dangle over the bridge, their emblems and allegiance long lost to time. Smooth, lustrous stone similar to talons rises around the temple, their shape giving the appearance of a clawed hand holding the shrine within its grasp.

There was no way to sneakily approach, instead we rode brazenly to the ruins. Nudging our mounts over the dusty road, intending to settle them with the several already roped outside the looming archway.

Two horses crest a nearby dune, barreling straight for us. By the proximity and speedy descent, they had been on the lookout for us. We continue our trot, letting the riders catch up to join us.

"About time! More Wardens and demons have been coming out of those ruins then a brothel during fishing season." Riding up to my right as Alistair took the other, sandwiching me between them.

"We're fairly certain the blood rituals are connected somehow to demons emerging. Groups of Wardens gather then only half that number leaves again. It's a cycle that has been repeating for the past couple days. We haven't been able to get close enough without making our presence known to find out for sure."

_Oh, you have no idea..._

Having nothing to say to that, I only nod. Leading us to the entrance and the Wardens' horses. Hastily I dismount, feeling even more sore and stiff then when we left yesterday. Taking off my coat with a wince, I throw it over the saddle, spotting the reason why I felt worse.

In the light of the early morning sun, I could see my wounds had deepened in color. Looking much uglier than before and slightly infected. From my peripheral I see Solas shaking his head in exasperation at the wounds, the irked displeasure evident by the set of his features.

"Yikes." Hawke comments at the sight while placing his hand on my shoulder. His hyper, bouncy magic flowing enthusiastically to the injuries with his touch. I briefly squeeze the forearm in thanks before extending out my right hand to begin forming Spirit Blade.

"Time to poop on the party." Propping the weapon on my shoulder at its completion.

Veins of black race over the blade as before but much of their intensity had faded. A sign that the remaining corruption would be devoured soon. And one that I was eternally grateful to see. Hawke raises an eyebrow at the sight but surprisingly doesn't remark on it. Instead he and Alistair wordlessly draw their weapons and take up position on either side of me as we march across the bridge.

The figures of demons quietly slouching in a row with Wardens vacantly staring into space beside them can be seen before even stepping onto the temple platform. A voice pleading for mercy drifts to us as we walk, its noise swiftly silenced. Replaced by the sound of crackling magic and the flare of a bright light.

I can feel and hear the disturbed revulsion from the others when we enter the shrine. Bloody corpses had been carelessly discarded to build a pile along the side of the enclosure. Red streaking the sand covered stone in trails where the bodies had been dragged. My eyes skim over the macabre scene, feeling nothing but disgust at the Wardens' stupidity.

"Inquisitor! What an unexpected pleasure. Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service." He greets with an exaggerated courtly bow.

I tightly press my mouth closed to keep from laughing with my first real glimpse of Erimond. It wasn't the pristine white robes that I seriously wanted to know how he kept clean in this place, or the glittering purple pauldron and gauntlets. Nope, it was the ridiculously pointy villain mustache and goatee. If he began stroking it, I was going to lose it.

"How dare you! You're no Warden!" Alistair snarls with a half-step forward.

His gaze shifts to Alistair at the outburst and gives a harried sigh. "But you are. The one Clarel let slip. And you brought the Inquisitor with you to stop me...Shall we see how that goes?" Lifting an eyebrow arrogantly at me.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that the two legged stool sample expects me to answer?" Glancing over at Hawke beside me.

"I think it's safe to assume you're going to make him cry into his pretty dress."

"Is that so? I believe you will find it much harder than you think. Wardens!" Smiling in triumph as he demonstrates the power he held over them, moving their bodies like mindless drones.

A curse comes from Alistair as he angrily shakes his head. "We're too late. Corypheus has already taken their minds."

Erimond snorts haughtily "They did this to themselves. You see-"

I allow him to keep talking, letting my brain go on a siesta so I wouldn't have to explain things I wasn't supposed to have any knowledge about. Considering I could Fade Step straight through everything; this douche wasn't going anywhere. And I only needed Erimond to reveal the Wardens plans then I could stop him here, bypassing Adamant shenanigans completely. Without him, Clarel could probably be made to see how nonsensical their methods were.

_Wonder how long I should stand here for? When exactly does he say something about Archdemons and summoning shit? Pffbbbtt...._

"-binding ritual I taught their mages has a -"

_Decent amount of mages and demons out here. Two rage demons...that's going to suck._

"-once the Wardens complete the ritual-"

 _Mages mean wards....Hope these ass-clowns don't diarrhea wards all over the place. God, I swear my lady bits are still frozen._ Completely not listening or paying attention whatsoever to what was being said.

"-the army will conquer Thedas."

Stepping forward and chopping his hand at Erimond, "Whore's gleet! Thedas may be a shit box, but it's our shit box! No one craps in it but us!"

_Hands down the most annoying spell ever...Wait, what?_

Turning my torso to look at Hawke, "did you just yell out 'whore's gleet'? Yeesh, harsh."

"Has this been too complicated for you? Do you think you can afford the luxury of playing games?" Erimond snidely interrupts.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I wasn't listening, but I strongly disagree!"

I can practically feel the flabbergasted gawking coming from the others behind me at the response. Erimond's mouth hangs open in stunned silence for a moment, blinking in disbelief before he collects himself.   

"So, you think you're funny do you? That your games and your petty jokes will make you stronger, that they will save you? Poor, insignificant, weak little Inquisitor... _tsk tsk_..." With a mocking shake of his head.

Widening my stance, I point my claymore at him. "Hey! I may be small but I'm strong and I can get it on with you bitch!" Erimond's brow creases and I see Hawke face-palm from my peripheral. "That came out wrong. Redo! I'm small but my thrusts are powerful!" Snickers and choked noises come from behind while Hawke's shoulders shake from containing his mirth. " Wait, no! I'll hit-punching-long time-RARRGH! FUCK IT!"

Fade Stepping past the ranks of Wardens and demons to slide into a wide side-sweep.

Erimond's body cringes back, his right hand flaring red as an answering crackling pop of the anchor sparks. His attempt to stop me no doubt. Too bad for him I didn't give a shit. The tugging and tearing pain a playful tickle compared to the fresh memory of having corruption rage through my spirit or being skewered like an Elven shish kabob.

A blurred body zips between Erimond and my claymore. The Warden puppet virtually wrapping themselves over my blade to take the slash instead. Automatically I add weight and cutting magic to the tip, pivoting my hips and driving forward to cleave right through her in order to get to Erimond. The split seconds of hampered resistance is just enough for him to fling himself backwards and out of the way of my strike. He hurls a spear of energy as the woman's mangled body falls, hitting me in the shoulder. I stumble back at the searing impact, gritting my teeth at the pain.

Erimond frantically lurches to his feet, tossing another to try and drop me. My claymore rises to block the attack, jolting numbness racing up my arms at the blow. I phase again, closing the distance, bringing the blade down in a vicious chop.

Talons seize my arms to halt it as blinding white light springs beneath me. My eyes catch Erimond smirking victoriously as both me and the demon are blown back in an explosion of ice. Air rushes from my lungs when I crash hard against the stone railing, Spirit Blade blinking out before my body even bounces off. Struggling to suck in air and inflate the squashed organs, I push off with the balls of my feet and hands to Fade Step at the fleeing magister. 

Bodies fling themselves in my path, trying to stop me. _"Fuck off!"_ Elbowing a mage in the face as I ran and dodging around the others like a goddamn obstacle course. Light flares under my feet slowing my phase as if I was running through wet cement.

The backdraft hits me from behind, my Fade Step hindered enough that I was unable to make it out of the mine's range. I'm slammed forward on my face, winded once again as light blazes beneath my palms.

_ARE YOU SHITTING ME??!!_

Rolling so at least I wouldn't get it directly in the face, I'm hurled into the opposite railing as powerful energy bursts outwards. My forehead connects with a painful crack when I rebound off, dazing me. I lay flat on my back, numbly staring up at the slow, whirling morning sky. The sounds of battle and clash of metal muted through a dense fog.

I blink hard in an attempt to clear my head, the knowledge that I was supposed to be doing something poking through the addled wooziness. The noise of the fight comes blasting back when Alistair grabs my wrist and hoists me into a firemen's carry. 

"Wait...Erimond...need to get Erimond..." I slur, vaguely trying to point.

If he heard, I couldn't tell. Instead he charges into a sprint with my deadweight draped over him. Bloody corpses and stone flying past as I groggily stare at the ground. Suddenly Alistair skids to a halt, my arms swinging limply at the abrupt stop. Hands grip my hips as Alistair leans to slide me off and rejoin the fray.

"I'm sorely tempted to leave you like that, my friend. Who said it was a good idea to play chicken with magical mines?" Dorian teasingly asks, his fingers feathering over the bleeding gash.

"...fuck diarrhea wards...stupid fucking spell...blows balls..." Words coming in slurred, crazy mutterings as I dizzily blink at Dorian.  

"Yes. Yes." He indulgently agrees while his magic fills my vision. "Wouldn't have anything to do with your uncanny ability to locate them with your face. Though I certainly hope those mines don't cause irritable bowels, it would make for a horrifying ride out of here."

I give him a goofy smile while his spell works its way over my face and shoulder, feeling infinitely better. Or I was until the reality of what was to come hits me. My smile faltering as I look out at the others finishing off the last of our opposition.

_Damn...how am I supposed to do this?_

Completely at a loss, my confidence withering as the enormity of my problems just soared a thousand fold with Erimond's escape. 


	34. Chapter 34

Vivienne materializes in a flash, flanking a demon with utmost regal composure. With an elegant flick of her wrist, the rumbled death throe of the last Shade echoes over the now calm ruin.

"Did anyone see where that Erimond ran off too?" Blackwall asks, moving to stand in the middle of the platform and slinging his shield to his back.

"I saw Erimond flee to the South. There's an abandoned Warden fortress in that direction. Adamant." Anger and frustration on Alistair's face as he wipes his blade on the leg of his pants.

"Blood sacrifice to summon demons...Yes, sounds like a perfectly brilliant idea! Especially when an unknown mage suggests it. Yes, thin the ranks when you're already worried about losing men. Because that makes _so_ much logical sense." Hawke sarcastically snickers with a cross of his arms.

"The Wardens were wrong, but they have their reasons. Without Archdemons there would be no Blight! What choice did they have?!" Slicing the air with his hand and taking a fuming step at Hawke.

"That's madness! For all we know, killing the old gods could make things even worse!" Staff in hand as Solas joins the group in the temple's center.

 _...so hot..._ I think dreamily at the crinkling snarl on Solas' face, barely keeping myself from sighing like a loon at the sight.

"There is no way to know that. It could just as likely end it as believed. Wardens are the only ones capable of stopping a Blight. If they're gone then all is lost!" Turning his fury on Solas.

His expression became one of a fierce glower. "A story foolish men tell to justify their actions." I stand from my seated position against the wall when Alistair moves forward, his rage over the Wardens' situation clouding his judgment.

"And let's not forget this makes it twice now that the Wardens have been controlled by Corypheus. I'm starting to think your order is doing it on purpose." Hawke adds.

"Thighs, walk with me." Using the interruption to crook my finger at Solas and pivoting to stride off the platform. Leaving Hawke and Alistair to bicker amongst themselves.  

I knew better than to let Solas and Alistair continue to go at it. Alistair was angry and not completely thinking clearly with all the shit piling up. And Solas being Solas, well, wouldn't keep from speaking his mind. The last thing we needed was Alistair punching him and even though he didn't need defending, I knew I would jump to Solas' aid. I liked Alistair, but friend or no, I would pummel the snot out of him in retaliation in a heartbeat.

 _Yeah, that had cluster fuck written all over it. There is something seriously wrong with me when it comes to him...BAH!_ Shaking my head at the weird behavior.

Spinning around when I reached the horses and linking my hands behind me, I wait for Solas to catch up. His face scowling as he halts in front of me, crossing his arms with staff still in hand.

"Alistair might not be in the best state of mind to listen but I am. Let it rip. Whatcha got?" Putting my personal feelings aside to give Solas the outlet he needed.

Solas shakes his head in abhorrence, "The strategy they propose is folly. We must stop the Wardens from carrying out this insane plan." Unfolding his arms and beginning to pace in his agitation. "To seek out these old gods deliberately in some bizarre attempt to preempt the Blight..."

I reach out, grasping his free hand to halt him. "Solas. Relax. We got this." _Hopefully Nightmare too..._ mentally crossing my fingers. "The Wardens won't make it to the deep roads. I promise." Reluctantly letting him go with a reassuring squeeze.

He sighs, letting the tension drain away. His expression smoothing as he calms. The constant battles, heat, and lack of sleep no doubt having added to his stress.  

"Thank you. I've been on my own for so long. It's difficult to get used to the support of others. Those fools and duty. Responsibility is not expertise. Action is not inherently superior to inaction. Forgive me. The entire idea is...unnerving." Looking weary as he rubs a hand on his brow.

_Woo...déjà vu~_

"I wonder if getting rid of the old gods would cause some sort of super Blight or at least a never ending one..." Curious if I could get him to reveal anything.

"Without a viable means to prevent it, yes. That is one interpretation."

 _Poop._ Wanting to roll my eyes and pout at the evade.

Biting my lip, I try to come up with a more complex question. One that would be innocent enough to avoid suspicion but also narrow enough that a non-answer would be quite hard to pull off. Tilting his head as he gazes at me, Solas' amused voice disrupts my inner brainstorm session.

"Thighs. Is that not what you called me?"

Releasing my lip and responding without thought, "Your thighs are very nice in those leggings, and originally I was going to go with bubble butt but-" Snapping my mouth shut like a trap when I realize what exactly was coming out of it.

_Rah! Filter woman! He doesn't want to hear that!_

Cutting off his startled snort-chuckle, "Hmm." Solas hums in smug pleasure.

_Filter...filter...everything that wants to spew out is dirty...oh my god..._

Instead I skim my gaze over the handsome face, enjoying the faint touch of color on his cheeks and tips of his ears. Lids lowering, Solas shifts his weight to lean closer to me. Grey eyes gliding over my features in a tender caress.

How badly I wanted to answer it, to give in. He had said I was wrong had he not? I could trust in this couldn't I?

Fingers twitch and lift to touch him but his expression changes, staying my hand. The warm affection fades, his brow furrowing in regret as he turns his head away, stepping back.

"Apologies. I should have left things as they were."

"Solas?" At a loss for what had just happened.

Retreating further, "the fault is mine, Inquisitor." Fully turning to give me his back and moving to return to the others.

I stand in stunned, gaping silence for a moment before burning annoyance slaps it down. If he had wanted to get away without a reaction, he had another thing coming. Using 'Inquisitor' on me....

Phasing to get beside him, I seize his shoulders and hook his leg with my own. Shoving him down to land in a pile of sand with a surprised _oomph_. Promptly seating myself on his chest and placing a hand down on his clavicle to prevent his escape as Solas looks up in dumbfounded speechlessness.

If he wanted up, he would have to throw me off. I was quite done with this teeter-tottering business.

"What the fuck is that apology for? You thinking better of having feelings for me? They weren't what you thought? What?" Freely letting my anger show.

Voice steely calm and eyes narrowing as his own ire rises, covering the hand pressing him down with his own. "It is kinder to leave things where they lie. We should focus on the Warden threat. If you would remove yourself from atop my personage, Inquisitor?"

Leaning in to push down with more of my weight, "kinder?" I hiss. "Fuck that! You've been giving me the come-hither-fuck-me eyes! What is it you want, Solas? Do you even feel anything at all? Speak plainly, Solas, no more of this bullshit!"

His grip tightens as provoked anger surfaces, his nose and brow crinkling. _"Fenedhis, na'elvar asha! Ar lath ma._ What does it matter? The wants and desires of one man pales against the lives of a world."

I blink stupidly at him, my fury gone like it had never been. Mentally kicking myself for not learning Elven.

_Wait. Did he just try to conceal a confession in there? I know he swore but I'm pretty sure 'love' also cropped up. Don't know what that says about my chances, having curses and endearments in the same breath..._

Relaxing back, "not when they're yours, Solas. Wh-"

"So this is what you've been doing, eh? So bold you naughty bird you!" Hawke jovially proclaims, interrupting my intent to get clarification on what I heard.

Opening my mouth to tell everyone to get back on the goddamn platform, Solas smoothly cuts in. "A minor disagreement, nothing that will interfere with our duty. Inquisitor?" Using the title as a means of placing distance.

Sighing at the appearance of his polite mask, I get off and allow Solas to stand.

"I'm sorry for the outburst before, it was all a lot to take in." Nodding his head to Solas, "Hawke and I have agreed it would be best if we determined what we are dealing with at Adamant. Shouldn't take more than a few days to scout out. We'll meet you back at the Western camp with a report."

"Western camp?"

"The scouts have been able to get that far and have a site nestled within the outlying boulders." Cassandra supplies.

_Huh. Good thing one of us talked to Harding._

"What about there?" Sera asks, pointing her bow at a castle not far on the horizon.

"Crawling with Venatori, my little sprite." Hawke responds, taking the reins of his mount in hand and hoisting himself into the saddle.

_Sit outside and have sand all up in everything, or take over a fortress?_

"Join us at the keep. We'll be there." I confidently state.

"Ho-oh! Well then, we'll see you there, your Holy Lewdness." Giving a mock salute and wheeling his horse Southwards.

"Inquisitor, agents. Maker watch you out there." Bowing his head in farewell before turning to trail behind Hawke.

"Killing Vints and seizing a stronghold...the day is improving considerably." Clapping me heavily on the shoulder.

"Depends on how everyone is. We can wait for nightfall or tomorrow....?" Looking to the team for an answer. Unlike me, I don't think anyone had slept in over a day.

"For a chance to get out of this sun and avoid sand in my knickers; I can wait to rest." Varying grunts and nods of agreement joining Blackwall's declaration.

Not entirely convinced but respecting their choice and confident in their abilities, I move to my horse. Hopping to seat myself and letting my eyes wander over to Solas, I observe the nimble bound into the saddle, the bunching of powerful muscles not so easily concealed by his attire, and an appreciative smirk emerges as his legs flex to tighten their grip on the fat belly between them.

_New mission: Seduce the elf._

The smirk spreads into a devilish smile when Solas catches the ogling, his eyebrow lifting in challenge at the lecherous look.

_I'm going to tap that ass._

~

Foliage and rock cover was minimally better surrounding the dreary Fort.

It was an impressive structure of hard, sharp edges situated against a small boulder formation. The inner keep appearing as though it had been topped with massive spear tips as it bleakly rises above the stone. Colossal spikes jut from the sandstone walls, ringing the bottom to deter a force from scaling it. Metal griffons perch as guardians along the ramparts, the dark protectors for which the Fortress was named.

"That portcullis is heavy metal, can't tell what kind from this distance." Bull growls. "We're not getting through that way unless the Venatori decide to invite us in."

"So we find another alternative. Tiny could always toss some of us up the wall. I'm sure that won't end badly."

"I believe the guards would take issue with that plan, Master Tethras." Gesturing with his staff at the patrolling lookouts walking the battlements.

"Bubbling, churning. Flowing to bring life. There's a well behind." Cole supplies.

"Know how to find it, Cole?" An emphatic nod in response. "Bull, with me and Cole. Let's see if we found our way in."

Wiggling backwards to stay hidden and crouching along the floor of the sandy trench, we follow Cole as he uses the dunes and boulders to provide cover. Making a wide curve to sweep around the back of the keep. Breaking into a sprint when the small mountain masks our approach. Trotting in its shadow until Cole leads us to a cleverly obscured gap in the rock.

A lustrous barrier blocks entry into the cave, its presence the sole line of defense against intruders.

Spears of energy gather at my hands, my wrists flicking out to sling them into the barrier as I hurriedly collect more to relentlessly bombard it. Its shimmering light finally rippling and misting away after a few minutes, my breathes heaving from the continuous assault.

Cautiously we enter the dim cave, the sunlight at our backs the only source of illumination. My feet slide along the tunnel floor when it steeply declines, its interior growing darker the farther we descend. The faint stream of light filtering down from a stone well when the path bottoms out signals our destination.

Fresh water from a spring below the fort quietly sits unmoving at our feet. Its depth undeterminable in the weak light. Slowly we enter, moving in measured steps to prevent announcing our presence. The water and rocky walls creating a perfect sound board to carry the slightest noise.

Chillingly cold water rises to mid-sternum by the time we carefully peer up the well. I tap Bull on the bicep, making him lean down so I can whisper in his ear.

"No way your fitting through that hole, big boy. Get to the others and have everyone get ready. When Cole feels you're in position, he and I will climb up and open the gates."

"That's too dangerous, Boss. Lot of Vints to hold off by yourselves."

"We're not going for an obvious assault. We'll sneak to the controls and keep them away long enough for you guys to get through. When that port opens -get the fuck in."

"Got it. See you topside, Boss." Giving me a firm nod and stealthily retreating back the way we came.

Quietly me and Cole stand in the icy water, haloed by sunlight from above. Shivering as the cold penetrates my limbs while my heart beats in a frantic tempo of anxiety and anticipation.

Waiting for the inevitable whispered 'go' from Cole.

Wishing it. Dreading it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Fenedhis, na'elvar asha: (Elven) Loosely; Damn it, you stubborn woman  
> Ar lath ma: (Elven) I love you


	35. Chapter 35

"Strained. Stretched. Taut as bows. They are ready." Reaching up to firmly grip the well's rope.

With nary a splash he climbs, the bucket remaining mostly still within the water as he effortlessly rises hand over hand. Cloaking himself in shadows before emerging above.

Taking a deep, steadying breath in, I grasp the rope as high as I can. Endeavoring to imitate Cole's noiseless ascent. Sloshing waves resonate in damning ripples as I struggle up, freezing me to hang in dangling panic. Expecting a shout of alarm to resound from above. A face to come rushing to investigate the strange clamor drifting from the well.

A burning ache begins to build in my muscles as I wait in baited breath. Warily hoisting myself farther when no one pops their head over the edge, and grimacing as once again the condemning splash of the rope and bucket jostling from my efforts echoes. Surrounded by the cobbled stone, I leverage my boots on the wall, removing much of the strain from my arms to use the sides and rope to climb up with less noise.

I hesitate at the top, listening for hints of movement or people nearby. Seemingly clear, I rise the last few feet and seize the well's lip. Heaving up with the help of my toes digging into the slippery brick to drape myself over the edge. Scanning the courtyard I found myself in.

Supply crates and a few small one horse wagons idly rest against walls and near the short staircases. Stairs that appeared to lead deeper into the fortress or up to the battlements depending on which was chosen. Ledges and walkways ring the empty yard on three sides, the last being a steep wall of rock from the mountain. The fort having been built in such a way that everything was situated around it, its presence organically incorporated into the structure. Tiny makeshift braziers sit unattended with benches pulled close. Presumably so that the guards or those about to go on shift could relax.

Upon seeing the vacancy and clear parapets above, I throw a leg over and land in a crouch. Glancing over to the portcullis to be sure the controls weren't there before hurriedly dashing to one of the steps adjacent to it.

Cole was nowhere to be found, a good thing considering he was supposed to be invisible but also worrying since I was unsure if I was heading to the right place. Charging up the stairs and swiftly ducking inside the open tower, I come to a screeching halt when I come face to face with two Venatori.

All three of us eye each other in stunned surprise, then in a strike of genius, I jazz hands and use a faraway voice on them. "You're dreaming...you see nothing...so sleepy..." Both looking at me like they had stumbled upon the village crazy.

"What th-"

His reaction is silenced as pale fingers close over his mouth and a dagger burrows into his clavicle. The other only given enough time to see his friend slinking to the floor before my magic spears him in the throat and cheekbone, a crimson spray decorating the wall as he falls back. Cole spins away without sparing a glance at the mess, taking us over a breezeway to the other side of the gate and disappearing with a fog of smoke once again before entering the opposite tower.

I rush full throttle into the gear room with a yell. "I'M SNEAKING!" hurling energy simultaneously into two of the three guards inside. Their bodies fling back with the force, bouncing sickeningly off the stone as Cole disposed of the third.

Leaving Cole to the wheel, I flatten myself against the second entryway to peek out and spot archers halted on the walkway in confusion. "You good, Cole?" Watching as they gesture to our tower and begin to stride for it.

"Yes."

Magic in hand, I step out. Bows raise in startlement as I quickly sling energy straight into their chests. More archers and patrolling Venatori march the battlements higher up, the sight of the fallen archers soon to be noticed.

Sprinting out, "I'M SNEAKING SO HARD RIGHT NOW!" Completely drawing attention to myself and away from Cole. Fade Stepping to vault up a set of stairs to take me to the top level.

Ducking under a sword meant for my head, I punch out to nail the Venatori in the genitals. Pivoting to dig my shoulder into his stomach when he hunches to flip him behind me and down the stairs. Arrows zing and whoosh past, so close I felt the air move as they passed. A hurried glance to determine where they were before magic is conjured in whirls in front of me, morphing into violent currents to deflect and slice all it touched, I barreled down the breezeway. Plowing through like a massive spherical vortex, cutting and tossing any who thought to stand against it.

Screams of agony and fear penetrate the cyclone of magic while I run. Signaling the success of my charge. Letting the currents flow away when I believed I had reached the end of this section of wall, I spin to regard the courtyard and portcullis far below.

Mages and soldiers stream into the square, hastening to halt the team from entering the keep. They waited only long enough for the heavy portcullis to partly rise before stooping or rolling inside. Dropping many of the Venatori with lethal precision as they rose.

Seeing that they filtered from farther in, I turn back to the parapets. A curtain wall separates the courtyard below from the outer ward beyond. The top of which was feet from my position. Breaking into a dead sprint, I run for the portion that had partially collapsed at an angle. Leaping to kick off one corner to grab the other, hoisting myself up and over with my momentum.

Yard behind and ward in front, I look down at the multi-platform enclosure.

There was merely one level to the catwalk surrounding the quad. With rather large sections of wall missing. Whether from a past siege or inevitable decay was uncertain. Planks bridged some gaps while others remained utterly ignored. Even more crates, barrels, and benches oddly litter the two stone platforms. Why supplies had been left out instead of taken within to the lower levels of the fort was a mystery. Unless everything was freshly delivered which would add a huge win for us.

The shouts of alarm and clash of battle had prepared the men and women within the outer ward. Archers and a handful of mages stand on the catwalk, primed and ready to unleash doom on whomever managed to breach the quad. A dozen Venatori move into a Phalanx formation before the courtyard breezeway, tense and waiting.

The quad was high enough within the fortress that the curtain wall I stood on was level with the catwalk. Slightly more than a single story drop separated me from the stone beneath me. Shaping my hands as though I held a basketball, I gather magic into a fervently gyral orb.

My presence had yet to be spotted and though it would hurt, I race along the wall to get as close as I could before jumping off at the last possible second.

"CANNON BALL!" Landing on a woman near the middle of the Phalanx in a slam dunk position.

Turbulent currents press down, savagely shredding the body under me and everyone directly adjacent as though they had been placed in a blender. Rippling out in a brutal whirlwind to consume those behind, the vicious gust dissipating the farther it swelled.

Most of the enemy had died instantly, torn apart before they even realized what had happened. Some, like the ones who screamed in horrified agony at their dismembered limbs, had been too far from initial impact. Lingering in tortured suffering as they bleed out from fatal wounds.

Clattering clinks and airy whistles come all around me as I hastily rise, wrists and ankles feeling sprained from the awkward landing. Searing pain stabs into my left forearm and along the left juncture of my neck and shoulder before I Fade Step away.

Ducking into cover within one of the gaping holes in the wall, I look down at my arm. An arrow impales the appendage between radius and ulna. Its shaft protruding clean through and intact. Breathing in fast bursts through my teeth, I grip the shaft and slice the fletched end with magic. Growling at the pain jostling the arrow causes. Inhaling deeply a few times to steel myself, I yank from the bottom and pull the arrow through. Spit flying as I heavily breathe and clench my jaw to keep the scream inside.

"Fffuck!" Covering my forearm in a white knuckle grasp to ride out the initial pain. Feeling the warmth of blood trailing down my back and between the valley of my breasts from the gash at my shoulder as more pools in my glove and over fingertips to drip upon the stone.

Charging footfalls converge on my location, two Venatori swordsmen rush around the corner, weapons raised. Phasing off the wall to put distance, I flick magic into the belly of one while stepping into the attack of the other. Pivoting to barely dodge the downward sweep, I backhand the man in the face with my right glove. Rotating my hips, I enhance roundhouse kick his bent form and crash him into his stunned buddy. Slinging magic at both downed bodies for good measure before turning away.

More descend from the second platform , fanning out to prevent another repeat of earlier. Facing me, they were easy pickings for the team as they sprung from the courtyard below. Throwing bodies forward by the sudden impacts into their flanks. Magic and wood whooshes and whistles as it finds its target. Swords and axe cleave through ranks of Venatori, adding to the carnage already present. Light blazes as wards burst to life from mages cowering from the skirmish, tossing Blackwall and Cassandra on their sides from the explosion.

Moving out of the protective shadow of the wall, I spot a particularly elaborately horned mage. His staff and hands in constant motion as he twists and rotates, lobbing magic at us in a barrage.

In a blur I Fade Step up the stairs to the second level, jumping to kick him in the sternum. With fluid grace he half-turns, dodging my strike. Flicking his wrist in a counter to side sweep me with his staff. Magic gathers to push it back, pain knifing up my left arm as I parrying with it. Stepping in, I pivot my hips to drive a straight punch.

Another quick snap, deflecting it, flowing into a downward arc to strike my skull. I spin to dodge into a backhand. He bends down and uses the momentum of his failed blow to hook my leg, flipping me onto my back. Slapping down with my palms to disperse the force and keep from cracking my head on the stone, I hurriedly roll away to avoid a nasty energy spear. Hopping up into a center stance just as magic slams into his side, knocking him to the ground with a skid.

Swiftly he gets to his knees just as bolt and arrow pierce each eye in almost perfect sync. His head snapping back from the force as his body slowly falls back to follow.

"Perhaps the sneaking should be left to the rogues." Blackwall chuckles as he trots up. Striding with shield raised to ascend a grand stairwell that would take us to the height of the inner keep. "Your brand of stealth is...uhm..."

"Shitballs!" Sera helpfully supplies. "Druffalo stampeding would be better skulkin' bits!" Jovially loosening an arrow into the back of a man who was attempting to crawl up.

"Nope. Think I found my calling." Grinning as I jog the steps behind the warriors.

"Yelling that you're, 'sneaking', does not actually make you stealthy, Glow Bug."

Smiling, I fan out with the others when we reach the top. The staircase had spit us out in the middle of a wide open roof ringed with thick metal spikes along the parapets. A flagpole rises in the center of an overhanging niche on the East wall with the standard of Tevinter proudly flying. Small nooks and sentry towers stand empty at the four corners, not a soul in sight as we cautiously search for any stray enemies. Only bedrolls and provisions fill the vacant space, bringing everyone to gather back at the steps.

"That it? Please be it. Arsetits that was a lot." Titling her head back like she was praying to the Heavens.

"We've probably killed the meat of the soldiers here but we shouldn't relax just yet, Boss. Lot of equipment and cots thrown about. Not to mention we haven't done a sweep of the halls."

"Separate into two groups, one down one up? Meet in the middle?" At the nods of agreement, I move to descend back down the stairs. "I'll help check the lower levels."

Wordlessly the squad divides themselves. Solas, Dorian, Bull, and Cole sedately walking to move beside me as we trudge to return to the massacre below. Bull alleviating the mood by commenting on the magic styles of the group and trying to subtly pry into Solas' skills. To which he was promptly met with the usual vague non-answer.

At the curtain wall parting the courtyard and ward, we split our group further. Solas and I turning to go down into the underbelly of the fortress while the others continued to the courtyard to check its towers and battlements. The air was marginally milder within the lower floors, the rock and earth having provided a natural insulator. Stale stillness permeates the halls as I gaze down two opposing corridors, pondering which to search. Choosing the one appearing longer and with more entries, I confidently stride to shove open the first of many doors, and slightly surprised but happy when Solas stays beside me instead of splitting to investigate the other hallway.

Dusty storerooms and decrepit quarters greet us with every hastily thrown open door. Some minimally in better shape and cleaner than others as someone had made an attempt to make the space habitable. Relaxing more with each subsequent Venatori-free room, I move to walk closer to Solas, careful not to touch him for fear of smearing blood all over him.

"Looks like we did pretty good. Got another fortress, butt ton of mystery supplies, injuries at a minimum..."

"A bountiful haul, true. However the outcome may not always be so favorable. You take too many risks, seemingly without care whether you die in the endeavor." Glancing over to Solas at the hint of censure, I see what his eyes were unable to hide. Though calmly stated, sad concern underlays his words.

"Honestly in the midst of everything, I don't think about it. I think it's because I expect you to be there so whatever happens, I will be all right." Staring straight ahead and feeling my face redden.

_What kind of sappy shit is coming out of your mouth, woman?!_

Solas pauses in the corridor, turning to me with somber tenderness, "there are things that even magic cannot stop. I-"

Flurry of movement in our peripheral cuts him off. A stocky man rushes from an open doorway not yet reached, his arm high as he blindly charges in fear with dagger in hand.

Phasing forward to meet the swing, I block with my forearm, hissing at the pain as I slide my palm to grip his bicep. Striking out with a right elbow to his temple and knocking him back. He stumbles while clutching his head, raising the weapon again to slash out. A bolt of scorching energy burrows into his chest over his heart, jolting him to slam into the wall. He slowly slumps to the stone, his eyes glazed and unseeing.

Gentle fingers touch my arm, lifting it as warm magic penetrates torn muscles and flesh. I look up at the handsome face focused on my forearm, "I owe you something for all the times you've had to do this."

"I'm owed nothing. Least of all for this."

Shaking my head in mock disappointment, "that's not what you're supposed to say. It should be," deepening my voice dramatically, "'the toll for thine services is tongue, wench!'"

With a soft chuckle he lifts his eyes to my face, raising a brow in amusement. "Demanding such a price from our companions holds no appeal. And I am reasonably certain they would take issue as well." He dryly asserts.

His fingers graze over my skin in a lingering stroke before he drops his hand. The refined digits coming away stained as Solas moves to press on and continue the search.

Three other cowering Venatori thought to ambush us during our exploration. Each meeting a similar end as the first until only a single room remained. Hand on the knob and back to the wall, Solas looks to my nod before breaching the entry.

The room was a small storeroom that had been stripped and changed to a sort of office space. A weathered table had been dragged in with scrolls and loose leaf parchment stacked in thick piles scattered messily over it. Short, poorly constructed bookshelves flank it. Its shelves half full with more paper and a few books. A cot near the door and a single beat up armchair behind the table the sole items of comfort with the tiny space.

We both relax at the empty sight. Solas sauntering to the table in interest, setting his staff to lean against the wood as I move to the cot and use the blanket to wipe some of the blood away.

Picking up a few sheets and scanning their contents, "it appears a Prelate by the name of Macrinus was holding this fort for Corypheus."

"Hmm..." Removing my gloves to stuff in my pockets, I rub bloody fingers on the blanket before tossing it in a corner as I move to the table. "Anything good in there about where he's hiding himself?" Hopping to perch myself on the wood.

"Sadly, no. He is intelligent enough to leave no trace of his whereabouts." Laying the reports down to inspect more.

Snorting in humor, "you'd think a stupidly gangly guy who looks like he's been left in the sun to melt would be quite easy to find." Moving my knee to lightly tap Solas' thigh.

Beautiful greys snap to me at the contact. "It is not so surprising his fanatics have been less than forthcoming. His rise is Tevinter's opportunity to regain its lost grandeur in their eyes." His gaze wanders to my mouth before tearing away to read through reports.

Trying not to smile as I start to run my boot along his leg, wondering how much I could bother him before he said something. "Do those mention why they're here?"

Dropping the sheets back to their pile to focus on me, "only to serve as a base of operations. Griffon Keep provides a tactical and geographical advantage within Orlais borders. Its strategic position alone makes its capture a great victory."

"Ooo talk strategy to me. That's sexy." Earning a chuckle-snort as I reach for the front of his vest and pull to stand him between my knees.

"You wish for me to tell you of my explorations of the Fade?" His voice husky but teasing while his hands come to rest on the table beside my hips. Caging me within his arms as he settles closer.

"No-yes-no-later..." Brain completely farting at Solas' proximity while my heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest.

A sinful, smug grin plays at the edges of his mouth before the scorching heat of full, firm lips press to mine, tweaking them to tease, to taste. His mouth slides in an intoxicating glide as he angled to delve deeper. I grip the back of his neck and slip the other under his arm to clutch the material at his shoulder, dragging him closer as I fervently kissed him back.

The response was Solas' deep inhale as the kiss becomes nearly brutal, as hands seize my ass and haul me flush against him. Eagerly I press against the warm body, his aggression only serving to rev my arousal further. I wrap my legs behind his, feeling the brush of Solas' hard length through the thin material of my pants, unabashedly grinding the aching center that wanted him most. Hips rotate to press just the right spot as his tongue mimicked the heated dance of sex, knowing exactly how to tease and tempt.

Breathing hard, Solas pulls back. His face flush with passion and intense desire as he looked down at me. The grey of his eyes dark and mesmerizingly stunning. He had left me burning in aching need to have him inside me, and frustrated from the loss of his lips, my fingers grip him harder. Tugging him back down, unwilling to relinquish my prize, fiercely plundering his mouth to show him what I wanted.

A growl escapes, sending chills as he savagely dominates my lips, angling them the way he wanted so he could take control. His fingers tighten on my ass to lift me higher, no longer teasing as his cock stroked in long thrusts that left me mindless.

It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. I didn't care I was still covered in dried blood or that we were both sweaty and grimy from the road. I wanted him naked. There were too many clothes in my way. Always too many clothes. My hands slid down his body, wiggling between our stomachs to find his belt. Fingers fumbling in their haste to unbuckle the wide leather and shoving it apart when I get the strip free before opening his vest to push it from his shoulders.

Solas tears his kiss swollen lips from mine, panting in fast, heavy breaths as he smirks and shakes his head in amused amazement.

"We have been gone far too long. The others should be made aware of the state of things here." Stepping from the circle of my thighs, and grabbing his staff, he makes a hasty retreat. Clothes askew and still terribly disheveled.

I sit in gaping astonishment. My mind slow to register anything after the most faint worthy make-out session I had ever experienced. An expression of 'what the fuck just happened?' gradually to form on my face. That bald jackass just left me incredibly horny and wet, running out of the room like his ass was on fire.

My eyes narrow as I stare out at the empty hallway. Brain gearing into mission mode.

_That apostate hobo just unleashed the beast! Get ready to crash and burn Solas!_


	36. Mission: Impossible?

Body taut and uncomfortably hot, I stroll out into the vacant corridor, a brow raising as I walk to the stairwell that would take me to the ward.

_Geez. Solas fucking booked it._

Not so much as a flap or rustle of cloth from him in sight as I trot the steps up and out of the much cooler halls. Insufferable heat beat down from the midday sun when I emerged and spotted the team already gathering in the shade of a catwalk slightly apart from the gory bloodshed. My trajectory changes to join them, noticing when I do that I was not the only one late to the party as Varric and Cassandra descend from the roof.

"-I see...So, the streaks that suspiciously look like fingerprints...aren't. Went rolling in the corpses did you?" Dorian flippantly remarks.

"Good for you! Get all that brooding tension out!"

A slight blush on Solas' cheeks as he calmly counters Dorian and Bull, "given the number of dead, it is possible blood may ha-"

" 'Drop 'em and rebuild the empire!' _Pwaroar!"_ Solas' full lips press together, his face and even ears flushing brighter at the ribbing. I cover my mouth with a fist, vainly trying to keep the laughter in at the trolling, the expression of sheer, heckled exasperation on Solas' face making it impossible.

_HA! Poetic justice!_

"I'm sure the Inquisitor-sorry- the Venatori, can get quite handsy." Adding her own quip as Solas sighs. "The keep appears to be clear for now. As tired as everyone is, we should focus on taking care of the dead. With the heat and amount of bodies, the smell is going to be unbearable otherwise."

"Take them outside the gates and burn them?" I ask Cassandra. Digging a mass grave would prove impractical given all the sand and leaving the corpses as is was a disease fest waiting to happen.

"Downwind would be best." She agrees.

Tasking Varric and Sera to other jobs while everyone else was assigned to disposal duty, we spread out to begin. Varric moving to take up residence in the gate tower as Sera brought the mounts within the security of the fort . Roping them within the courtyard before leaving to investigate the supply crates and barrels.

"When we're done, everyone is taking a mandatory bath." I grunt as I drape a woman over my shoulders in a firemen carry. Going for the smaller bodies first and the ones who hadn't yet defecated. The mages; especially Dorian with his necromancy, had it the easiest. Energizing the corpses to float them down the stairs and over stone and sand. While the rest of us dragged, hoisted, and heaved the bloody cadavers to the growing pile outside.

 _Seriously need to learn how to do that without making the object explode._ I think sourly.

It took us well into the afternoon to complete our gruesome roundup of the keep. Its finish one that would have taken longer if not for the aid of magic. A pyramid created of butchery to be lit by mage fire our shitty reward.

Jars of animal fat are grimly tossed over the tangled limbs to crash and shatter. Spreading their flammable liquid as the last of the Venatori are added to the pyre. In pitying silence the mages set it ablaze. Its flame building into an inferno, filling the air with densely thick black smoke. The pungent smell of burning flesh making me hastily retreat to escape the horrid stench.

Within the courtyard the men take their saddlebags before leaving to allow the ladies to wash first. Though only myself and Cassandra choose to do so, Sera and Vivienne both opting to bathe later since they had managed to avoid the bloody mess.

I squirm out of my grimy clothes as Cassandra pulls the bucket up from the well below. My skin feeling itchy from the sand and dried blood while Vivienne and Sera seated themselves nearby under the shade of the ramparts to give us company.

"You and Solas...I am happy for you, my friend. With everything we face, it is good to find something that will provide a measure of peace." Placing the filled bucket on the lip and stepping back to remove her armor.

"Well, I haven't bagged him yet. Trying. But not yet." Slowly tipping the bucket to wet myself down, leaving it half full so Cassandra can do the same. Turning behind, I bend to grab my soap, scrubbing vigorously to work it into my skin.

" _Blugh!_ Boring! Bet he'll yell, 'For the Empire!' or, 'Elven Glory!' when he reaches his _glory_." Giggle-snorting uncontrollably at her own joke.

"I would advise about station and appearances, my dear, but I know you will simply ignore it."

"Oh, I shall." Dropping the bucket back down the well with dramatic flare.

Mood lighthearted and teasing, we wash. Trading wisecracks in the brilliant sun, the trials of the day pushed away to enjoy life and companionship. Rinsing and finishing our bath, we dress. Checking the horses before taking our own packs to join the men.

They had laid out gear and brought cots to what seemed like an assembly hall in the inner keep. Considering the fort was newly won and there was still a risk that soldiers had been missed, it was decided to err on the side of caution and sleep together for now. After everyone had a chance to rest and a more thorough sweep could be done, then we could claim our own space without worrying about getting shanked in our sleep.

I pick a spot against the far wall, plopping down in sudden exhaustion as the stress of the past twenty-four hours hits me. Rolling to my stomach to watch the men filter out to take care of their own baths. Smiling at Solas when his eyes linger on me before exiting with them. Sighing in disappointment at the lack of privacy, I twist to remove my boots. Getting comfortable as I wait for Solas to return. Wanting to at least quietly talk; well more like flirt honestly, before passing out. Folding my hands under my chin, I relax. My lids slowly lowering and shutting for longer periods as fatigue takes me.

~ 

" _Ballsack_." Raspberrying when I open my eyes to see the assembly hall in colorful splendor.

Griffon banners vibrantly hang from every beam. A round table of heavy oak resting in the center of the hall beneath them. Somehow imposing in its appearance though nothing adorned it. High winged-backed armchairs ringing it in a uniform array of silver and blue.

The memory with which I found myself in likely one from the height of its majesty.

Wondering if I was here due to Larry or something else, I spin to leave. Walking through the now clear halls to step into the ward.

Its walls and catwalk were completely unblemished. Gone were the crates and barrels of before. In their place training dummies and weapon racks line the second platform, acting as an exercise yard. The first devoid of clutter, probably so that it could be used as a space for combat practice.

Curiously I stride around the targets, weaving my way to the stairs to continue my random wanderings.

"You are becoming quite proficient in finding dreams." Seemingly materializing out of nowhere from behind a dummy.

" _Dreams, or you?_ " An eyebrow lifting in challenge at Solas as he saunters to stand beside me.

"Were you looking for me?" Completely dodging the question.

 _I don't know, are you planning to cock block again?_ on the tip of my tongue but I hold it in.

 _"Maybe,"_ sidling close to trail a finger down his vest. _"Hoping to discover something in particular here?"_ Hooking my finger inside his belt and shifting to barely press our bodies together.

Strong hands instinctively rest on my waist. His eyes unfathomably dark as they caress my face to settle on my lips. "It is difficult to predict what secrets a dream may hold." His thumbs idly tracing small circles that send sizzling jolts of heat over my skin.

Since dodgy Mcdodgerson was diverting everything, I figured I might as well do something constructive.

Rising on my toes as Solas leans to meet me, feeling the graze of soft, warm lips parted in preparation to capture mine, I pull back with a mischievous grin. Retreating, I tug him along to the stairs behind.

 _"Sit."_ A brow twitches in question but Solas does as instructed and wordlessly seats himself on the top step. I promptly follow him down, straddling his lap as eyes become impossibly darker and he inhales deeply, his focus intently riveted on my face.

"We sh-" My hands cradle his jaw, silencing whatever excuse was forthcoming with a kiss.

I had wondered if I had perhaps only imagined that his kisses were potent. Perhaps putting them on a lust-induced pedestal if you will.

Boy, I had not.

The man was sin incarnate. In the waking world his kiss had been intoxicating, electrifying. Here within the Fade? They were a drug, the most addicting and pleasurable of stimulants. One that I would happily become enslaved too.

Lips eagerly slide over mine, angling to taste and explore. Learning what drove me to fiercely respond. His hands slip to my back, drawing me closer. Skimming down to cup my ass when I grind into the hard press of his erection beneath me, directing my hips to roll seductively against him.

I was aflame, wanting him more than the next breath. His fervent mouth and body make it impossible to think of anything else. But there were clothes in way. Always the damn clothes. My hands leave Solas' face, drifting down his chest to the leather of his belt. Clasping the top, and with a tug; use magic to cut it apart before shoving both belt and vest aside.

Solas' mouth breaks from mine as he leans back, his expression severe from tightly controlled passion.

I follow his retreat, hungrily sealing his lips with a kiss. Grasping the thin belt he always wore above that sweater, it receives the same treatment as the other. His groan of defeat as he sinks back is a sweet aphrodisiac to my senses as a hand moves to cradle the back of my head, positioning me for the relentless assault of his lips.

Wanton fingers desperately seek his skin, pushing sweater and under-armor up to bar a beautifully toned stomach. His muscles tighten and tense as my hands spread and caress reverently over the smooth expanse. As badly as I wished to touch every inch, learn every line, desire was riding me hard. I reluctantly leave the exploration for later, moving to unbutton my pants without breaking the kiss, believing I was on to something with not allowing Solas time to speak. I lay on him more fully as I push the frustrating impediment down to my knees before settling over him once more. The sensation of familiar, tingling magic tugging the pants off the rest of the way causes a shiver of anticipation to race through me.

His hand returns to my naked skin, kneading supple flesh. Seeming to luxuriate in its feel before trailing to zero in on where I wanted him most. Grazing over wet folds in a teasing caress, spreading and tracing his way along needy nerves but never quite using enough pressure to provide relief in a touch that only added oil to an already burning inferno.

Bare thighs rub over the thin fabric of his leggings in frustration. The stretchy material closely resembled a cottony spandex, making for blissfully easy access for what I wanted. My fingers glide over his belly for a moment before slipping inside his waistband, feeling the smooth head and eagerly sliding farther along silken skin. The sound of Solas' nasally inhaled breath at the contact spurs me to slow down enough to stroke the thick shaft appreciatively. Relishing the groan of pleasure as my hand caresses heated flesh, and pausing to rub my thumb over the sensitive tip. His hips rise to help my other hand push his leggings down further, and enough to free him.

Fingers leave me when I lower and press slick folds against his rigid cock, riding the long length from base to tip before hesitating at the blunt crown each time to roll my hips. Letting the wide head almost breach my entrance before sliding back down. Teasing him, wishing to return the favor. Full lips kiss their way along my jaw to the sensitive column of my neck, knowing just where to nibble and nip to send shivers racing. His hands move to firmly grip my ass as he kisses his way back to my ear, goose bumps rising as his hot breath ghosts against my skin. Voice low, seductive, promising, _"Juveran na su'tarasyl."_ The words unknown but their lust filled intent evident.

A moan escapes when he positions me over the broad head of his cock, pressing against my entrance and pushing the blunt tip into a channel soaked and ready. His fingers clench and the muscles beneath me tense as he prepares to sheathe himself fully. The deep rumbling of demons sounds, freezing Solas for a moment. His eyes widen and before I even perceive the change, I'm forcefully catapulted from the Fade.

My eyes snap open as I jolt awake to the sensation of magic heavily coating the air. Its presence so densely compacted that the room felt stifling and muggy. Making teammates within the hall roll and fidget in their sleep. I sit up on my elbows, dispersing my magic and clearing the room in preoccupied frustration as I scan over the cots for Solas. Spotting him against the opposite wall.

He lays on his back, a leg bent as his chest rises and falls in heavy pants. One hand covers his eyes, the brightly lit sconces doing nothing to conceal the deep flush on his face and ears. Fingers part and he turns his head to meet my gaze.

I forget to breath for a second as stunning grey holds me entranced with their smoldering heat. His body lithely rises to exit the hall, wordlessly bidding me to follow. Enthusiastically I do; careful not to rouse anyone as I weave my way past. Anticipation and heady giddiness adding an extra pep to my step. The confirmation that Solas was packing some major heat making me want to raise a fist to the heavens and weep in sweet victory. Mentally giving the Penis Gods a heartfelt salute.

Leading us out to the ward, Solas pivots to face me.

"Are you unhurt?"

"Yes..." My face skewing with confusion at the odd question. Most surely not expecting _that_ to be the first thing out of his mouth.

"Such acts attract the notice of demons." Seeing my bafflement and clarifying. "Forgive me. I knew better but allowed emotion to cloud my judgment."

Well, as Bull put it, "demons shit on everything." I huff. Moving to slip my arms around his waist and press against his body.

His arms surround me in their warm embrace with a hand resting on my lower back. The other rubbing soothingly over my shoulder blade. "It would be wise to avoid the Fade for now. At least until our time in the Approach is complete. I was uncertain before, however, after our...encounter and subsequent exit, I am fairly confident there is a powerful demon nearby."

_I have a pretty good idea who that is..._

"Since what I want to do is a no-no in the Fade, that shouldn't be too difficult." Grinning as I slide my hands to squeeze his generous butt. Feeling his other bounteous endowment twitch against my belly in eager response.

Lifting up on my toes to capture his mouth, his lips and tongue glide and twine with mine in controlled restraint for a moment before Solas' hands tenderly cup my face and he pulls away to rest his forehead against mine.

"We shouldn't. It isn't right." Voice low, faraway, seemingly talking more to himself. Shifting to lay a gentle kiss on my forehead, he straightens. His fingers reaching back to grasp mine and bring them to his lips. "Try to rest. The day has been long."

"I would sleep better if you join me." Smiling even though I was starting to get a sneaking suspicion on why he was pumping the brakes.

_Say yes, say yes. Oh, for the love of God let me be wrong..._

His lips quirk in wry amusement even as the desire remains in his eyes. "That is not what you have in mind. It is better we sleep alone. I would not presume to stray you from the mission."

 _...Nutsack._ Mentally dropping to my knees and yelling a resounding _nooo_ to the world.

"You wouldn't. I am firmly set on _my_ mission."

With a teasing hum and another kiss on my knuckles, he retreats. "Blackwall will need to be relieved soon. I will join him, the night air is invigorating." Reluctantly releasing my hands Solas pivots and strides into the night.

Stunned and mouth probably agape at the sudden twist of events, I mutely watch his retreat. Then, with hands on hips, I tilt my head back and expel a long winded raspberry to tiredly sound into the night.

_Shit...how to get around this..._

Solas wasn't flinging excuses willy-nilly because he thought it was fun. He was escaping because he believed he would be taking advantage. How to tell him that it wasn't the case without giving away anything? It wasn't like I could come out and say, 'Hey, you're not sleeping with me under false pretenses. I know everything! MWAHAHA!'

The answer was: there was none. Any way I worded that would wave a red flag in a field already full of the damn things.

_Poop...Just...big. Giant. Poop._

~

Three days we had been in residence. Using the time to allow everyone a much needed reprieve as we spent our days searching through the mountains of supplies and taking stock of the fortress. Keeping ourselves busy as we waited for Hawke and Alistair to make their appearance.

Solas on the other hand, found something constructive to do with his time. Passing most of his thumbing through missives and any tomes we came across. While I, on the other hand, abandoned all pretense of subtlety and endeavored to seduce him at every turn.

Needless to say, Operation Pantsless was failing horribly.

When he miraculously wasn't anywhere to be found, or surrounded by one of our squad mates; the minute things became hot and heavy he ran like a bat out of hell. The others had caught on long ago what I was up to and the flailing results. Finding the entire situation hilarious and even aiding me at times by asking Solas for assistance and leaving him alone for me to subsequently ambush.

Sadly he had figured out their trick after the second botched attempt. Pretending ignorance of their ploy while talking them into agreeing to do the work themselves without even realizing it.

Now I was down to my last resort.

My Hail Mary, my trump card, my ace in the hole, my do-or-die scenario. If this didn't work, if Solas could hold strong against it, then I was screwed. The man would prove he was unbreakable and I would die a very sad panda.

Cassandra had gathered everyone together so that we could discuss the possibility of a group heading back to the scouts and getting reinforcements to hand the keep over to.

Guess who had volunteered to tag along?

I would have to take my chance tonight for they planned to depart in the morning. With the way things usually went, I wouldn't have an opportunity to freely pursue Solas like this for awhile. Who knew what kind of crap we would be sent to do next or for how long. I wanted to take advantage of the privacy while I could.

Tearing off gloves and boots to discard in a pile at my bed, I stride from the tiny chamber I had commandeered. Heading for the storeroom that had been turned into a miniature study. Smirking at the irony that the room of my epic slap down would also be my last showdown.

Torches line the vacant corridor, lighting my way as I nervously walk to Solas' door. Late enough that everyone was either asleep or enjoying the company of another. Taking a fortifying breath, I softly knock, waiting for a response from inside. When none comes, I try again, wondering if he was out or simply hadn't heard me. After silence answers the knock, I hesitantly turn the knob to peek inside.

The interior was dimly lit as candles burn low. Solas lays with an open book on his chest, his hand limply holding it as though he had drifted to sleep reading as the other pillows the back of his head. "Solas?" Biting my lip in indecision when he remains sound asleep.

_Last chance, woman. Either nut up or pray another opportunity presents itself between here and Skyhold..._

Decided, I step inside and quietly close the door behind me. My stride to the bed halts in fear when the floor beneath me glows. I hold my breath as just as suddenly it faintly flares then dies, the stone returning to just as it was before. Exhaling in relief, I gingerly make my way to the bed. Wondering all the while why Solas' ward hadn't just gone off in my face but not about to question it either.

Gently I take the book from his hand and set it aside.

Feeling like I was the Devil about to despoil the innocent young maiden, I lay down beside him, enjoying the simple pleasure of lying against his warmth and just being with him. Tenderly I caress the face relaxed in sleep, the slight frown he had worn on his brow smoothing at my touch. Lifting to lean over him, I press a soft kiss to his mouth. Lightly gliding my lips over his and licking their seam when they sleepily respond. Lazily I explore the feel of them without delving to deepen the kiss though I craved it, instead allowing myself the tiny indulgence of sucking the plump softness before I pull away.

Solas mumbles something in his sleep when I do, the hint of a pout on his face from the desertion making me smile.

Emboldened, I shift to straddle his shins and lean to run my hands up muscular legs. Luxuriating in the feel of strong muscles beneath my palms as I massage upwards to his inner thighs. My right slides further still, slipping under the modesty flap of Solas' tunic, stroking his semi-erect penis through the thin material of his leggings. His hips rock and a drowsy groan escapes as Solas' breaths come faster and I apply more pressure. The answering flood of desire and heat through my blood as the shaft within my grasp thickens and grows -becoming impossibly hard at my touch, causes my own breaths to quicken in response. I pause long enough to slide the front of his waistband down, freeing straining flesh to proudly jut up as a bead of pre-cum moistens the tip, and I nearly purr in wanton appreciation as the sight drives my insides to clench with need.

Using one hand to keep the material out of the way while the other stroked over hot velvet, I bend down. Sealing my lips around the blunt crown and capturing the moisture with my tongue. Unable to stop the moan at its sweet taste and swirling my tongue to eagerly draw more. Fingers gently fist in my hair as Solas' hips rise in a drowsy plea for me to take him deeper. He was so big I had to be careful I didn't accidentally graze him with my teeth. Opening wide to accommodate his girth, I took him farther in my mouth. Using my tongue to explore him, to learn what he desired, tightening the seal of my lips and sucking as I worked up and down the hard shaft. Drawing him deeper with each pull.

Solas' breathing turned harsh as I increased the pace, his hips rolling more frantically before a choked groan rumbles from his throat. The fingers in my hair twitch as the body beneath me tenses in sudden wakefulness. I lift my eyes to gaze at Solas, never halting my ministrations. The beautiful grey had all but vanished, having been vanquished and devoured by black. Knowing the mischievous gleam reached my eyes, I take him as deeply as I can, mercilessly tasting him with my tongue.

Solas' head drops back, an expression of pleasure bordering on tortured on his face as he shuts his eyes with a groan. Elven spilled from lush lips as his hips hopelessly lift in shallow, desperate thrusts. A heartbeat more, and the sensation of hot warmth reaches my mouth as his come jets across my tongue, drawing another moan from me at the unusual honeyed taste. Eagerly I lick and suck to entice every drop as his cock continued to jerk with his release. His hips thrust once more before the hand in my hair gently tries to pull me away. Grudgingly I suck the blunt crown one last time, wringing an over-sensitized hiss.

Strong hands grasp my biceps, hauling my body up and flipping me onto my back with surprising speed and strength. I bounce as hands spread my knees to give him room. His fingers zero to the waistband of my pants to deftly work the hooks before grabbing the material at my hips, and with a rough tug are brought to my thighs.

A loud knock sounds through the room, freezing Solas and halts his intent.

"Solas? Is the Inquisitor with you?" Cassandra calls from the other side of the door.

Solas' eyes shut, a furrow appearing between his brows as he breathes deeply through his nose, his expression looking like he was trying to calm himself and count to ten while still not relinquishing the hold on my pants even as he remained hunched over my body.

"Cassandra! Not a good time woman!" I yell back.

"I am aware." Her tone sounding like she was finding this situation funny. "However Hawke and Sir Alistair have returned. It would be best to hear what they have found together."

Any other time I would have thought it hilarious as well, but goddamn, she had fucking terrible timing!

He gaze rakes over me with burning desire, drifting down my body and lingering on my exposed sex, "we will be there shortly, Seeker." His voice calm but passion sharpened it to carry a far harder edge than normally was present. Briefly he shuts his eyes again, appearing as though he was asking for patience, then, with a heavy sigh he wiggles my pants back up. In frustration he wipes a hand over his skull as he shifts and moves to get off the bed, his arm extending to offer me a hand up.

Defeated, I fix my pants and place a hand is his.

 _News about Adamant is so not worth it._ I think bitterly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation: (Courtesy of Fenix Shiral here on AO3)
> 
> Juveran na su'tarasyl: (Elven) I will take you to the sky.


	37. Chapter 37

Yup. It was official. I was going to die a Thedas virgin.

_Ah, crap. Wait. That's a good question..._

I certainly had my own body. The un-elflike extra curves of my hips and muscular legs along with the smaller than normal Elven stature was proof of that. But with the ears, magic, and tattoo; there was a question of what else might have been added just for the shits and giggles.

_Make me a virgin again...yeah, that's absolutely the kind of bull-corn Thedas would do to screw with me more..._

Mind in a whorl of horrifying 'what ifs', I gaze up at Solas as his strong fingers envelope mine.

With a gentle tug he pulls me to stand and into a warm embrace. His hand cups my jaw to place tender kisses on my lips and forehead. I slip my arms around him, resting my ear against his chest, taking pride in the slightly racing pound of his heart even as frustrated disappointment ate at me and I was seriously considering flipping a table.

I inhale, trying for calm. Knowing I needed to center myself and get focused on the task at hand. Solas' intoxicating scent fills my nose, reminding me of what we had just done, and having the complete opposite effect. It made me want to purr and rub my cheek against him in delight.

Not caring how it would look, I give in to the impulse and indulge in the feel of him.

" _Ir abelas, ma lath_. This must be put on hold for now." Sliding his hands to my shoulders and reluctantly drawing away. "Let us see what Hawke and his Warden have been able to uncover." To my surprised pleasure, Solas links his fingers with mine as he turns away. Waving his other dismissively over the floor, brilliant blue flares across the tile, vanishing with a sparkling burst of color.

"Those were wards, right? They didn't pop when I walked over them." Insanely curious about the lack of magical blowback. No way had Solas made some sort of miscalculation or misfire on his spell.

"I would have worried if they had." Smug confidence in his voice and a hint of a smirk on his lips. "You are quite predictable in your pursuit. Although, I expected your ambush to come sooner."

"Whaa...?" Pointing to myself in mock sincerity. "How could you have known I would jump you in your room?"

Solas only quirks a brow and gives me a teasing 'are you serious?' expression.

With a happy _hehe_ , I lean my head on his arm as we walk. Enjoying how Solas' large palm dwarfed my own as he idly ran his thumb over my knuckle. The novelty of such a simple touch, of experiencing the warmth of the one you liked gently holding your hand, something that filled me with such euphoria that I may as well be walking on the moon.

He doesn't withdraw his hold as we stride into the assembly hall where the others have already gathered. Many had obviously been asleep when the call to assemble came, their hands massaging tired faces and muscles in an effort to wake up. Eyes turn to us in a mix of goodwill and 'about time' expressions as we join them, Hawke's face in particular lit up with a look that said he had a joke and was struggling to hold it in for just the right moment.

Cassandra gives us a warm smile in welcome before shifting to address Hawke, "now we are all here. What have you found?"

"Better be good if it couldn't wait till morning." Bull remarks with a cross of his arms. "Dorian was just hitting his stride." Causing Dorian's face to flush as a choked sputter escapes him.

"Bwa-wh-! Subtlety!"

"...lucky..." I wistfully sigh under my breath as strong fingers tighten in a brief squeeze, letting me know the envious mutter hadn't gone unheard.

"Hmm.." Hawke loudly hums as he rolls back on his heels. "What was that, my Lady Inquisitor? I didn't catch it. Why, you look a little pouty...or is that a look of being unsatisfied? I admit I wouldn't know since no one leaves my bed that way." Giving Solas an evil grin.

Unintentionally I lift a hand to pat my face, "really? I thought I hid it well..." mumbling to myself.

Voice carrying over my own, "the Inquisitor's private life is not your concern." The icy detachment belying the obvious warning underneath.

Dramatically Hawke grimaces. "Eesh. Touchy! Little confused on how things work? Oh! Or maybe you're a walking Chastity belt?" Raising a hand to shield his mouth in a conspiratorial manner to me, "we have a guy like that back in Kirkwall. It's terrible..."

Eyes narrowing dangerously, "those with skill need not boast to prove their worth. Only one of us is looking insecure and lacking Champion." Frigid impassiveness in every word.

 _Da~amn!_ Sucking my lips in at the expression on Solas' face and wondering if Hawke would perhaps be the first person to get him angry enough to punch someone.

"Alright, children. That's far enough." Varric waves in a placating manner. "Warden, if you would supply us with some details of Adamant before my friend here gets a much deserved beating?"

"Err yes..." appearing decidedly uncomfortable. "Wagons carrying provisions and Wardens summoned from across Orlais were arriving daily. It would seem they are stockpiling and fortifying Adamant in preparation for a war or siege. With just the few of us here, taking the fort will be suicide."

"Their number?" Sounding much nicer now that he wasn't dealing directly with Hawke.

"Easily a full company."

_Meaning an army was required and the battle of Adamant was unavoidable._

Unlinking our fingers, I shift to stand in front of Solas so I could lean back against him and cross my ankles. Figuring I might as well get comfortable. His stance widens to take my added weight as warm hands slide over my ribs to hug me to him.

"Cassandra, you guys are already heading for the scouts tomorrow. Have Harding or whomever is in charge of the camp send a raven to Skyhold for troops. We'll just have to hope that by the time they arrive we are not ass deep in demons."

"Watch yourselves out there. I sensed the presence of darkspawn on the way here." Alistair pipes in.

"Traveling with an army takes time, Boss. Especially one bearing siege equipment. Lot of things that can happen in that long window."

"Agreed. It's why we are also going to ask Leliana if there are any agents in the area who can harass the Wardens. We might not be able to do anything to the ones already within Adamant, but we can disrupt their supply wagons and those still on the road." Nods and affirmatives come from the team at the idea, sparking a discussion on how best to utilize the scouts assigned to the task. The talks cause me bite the inside of my cheek to avoid laughing at the irony every time Solas offered a suggestion.

I had to admit, though some proposals went from outlandish to downright insane-courtesy of Sera and Bull in most cases-it got the gears turning as I considered my companions through strategy-colored glasses.

However, before long Cassandra called a halt and brought an end to our increasingly bizarre brainstorm session. Ordering everyone to bed for a few more hours of rest prior to departure. As members start to drift from the room, I tilt my head up to look at Solas. Lifting a hand to leisurely run my knuckles along his jaw and giving him a smile before I draw away from his comforting heat. Turning, I call to stop Hawke from exiting the room.

"Yo, Hawke! You're not going anywhere buddy." Crooking a finger at him to come back. "Tell me what you saw of the gates and battlements."

"What? Now? Can't I get some sleep first?"

Crossing my arms and cocking a hip with a grin, "hey, you shit all over my night. At least make it worth it."

I was still too wired to sleep and had no illusions about being able to anytime soon. Getting lucky a second time with Solas tonight was highly improbable. Passions had cooled and time to recover had brought back levelheaded thinking so my Hail Mary had gone down the toilet in epic fashion.

So what else was there to do but pretend to actually give a crap and be the Inquisitor?

"They have ridden with modest rest, I am sure. Without an army, there is precious little to be done. Any insight the Champion may provide can hold until morning." Tone pragmatic as Solas calmly brings his hands to fold behind him.

"True. But I won't be sleeping anytime soon so someone's got to suffer. Plus, it's fun doing it to Hawke."

"Ah, come on! So mean!" Lumbering over to the table and plopping himself in a chair with a theatrical pout.

Solas shifts closer, ignoring Hawke's loud huffing carrying on in the background. "If you are having difficulty sleeping, there are exercises to remedy that." Voice measured and expression unreadable as he looks down at me.

"It's fine. I need something mind numbing and I'm sure this will do that." His eyes widen with incredulous disbelief as I pat his hip with a cheerful smile and spin to join Hawke. In confounded silence he blinks for a moment before shaking his head in wry amusement and pivots to take his leave.

"Alright, tell me everything you can remember. Actually draw it too." Mind firmly in 'get shit done' mode as I push ink and quill across the table to Hawke.

Pointedly gathering the materials in a slow fashion as he _tsks_ in disappointment at me, "you are a simple, simple little creature. I'm beginning to feel sorry for that hobo." 

~ 

A touch on my back bolts me upright in abrupt wakefulness, "loophole!" The booming exclamation startling a sleeping Hawke to drop from his chair. Solas softly chuckles from his crouched position next to me, reaching up to peel off a sheet of parchment stuck to my cheek.

"Sleep well?"

Wincing as I roll my head, "no." Rubbing the back of my neck and feeling incredibly stiff from laying over the table.

With a drowsy groan, Hawke picks himself up and ambles from the hall. Muttering all the while about dense women.

Solas lightly runs his fingers over my back, leaving a trail of soothing heat behind. Loosening aching muscles as his eyes brighten with a teasing gleam, "It is comforting that a night spent hunched over hard lumber was preferable to my company."

I blink stupidly at him as his words sink in. "Wait, what? You never put that on the table!"

Tilting his head with a playful hum, "did I not?"

Mouth working soundlessly, "Wha-no-maybe..." extremely confused. "Ugh! Why didn't you just plainly say so like a normal person?" Torn between wanting to shake him or take him to the floor and molest him.

Standing with a snorted chuckle, "I was unaware the subtleties of flirtation needed to be explained to you." Eyes dancing with mirth as his lips curve with a wolfish smirk. "I will be sure to bear that in mind in the future."

"My mistake then. I'm ready to rectify it now." I eagerly blurt.

"Regrettably our comrades prepare to depart as we speak. It is a matter best suited for another time. And one I will enjoy resolving." Bending down, Solas' warm fingers grip my chin and tip my head for a passionate kiss. His lips taking possession in a bid for control. Sliding hungrily over mine, branding me with their heat. Leaving me breathless and desperately wanting more. Solas' mouth curves in a smile as he pulls away from my willing lips.

Reflexively I follow his retreat and succeed in almost falling off the chair. Clumsily I catch myself as Solas straightens with a mischievous quirk of his brow and pivots to leave with a confident swagger. His body saying he knew exactly what kind of state he had put me in.

_That smug bastard!_

Really ready to shake him now and stuff his bald head in the sand. 

~

The descriptions Hawke and Alistair were able to provide along with the sketches of Adamant's walls just weren't enough. I wanted to see for myself whether they might have missed a potential entry point or weakness. Plus I badly needed something to do otherwise sexual frustration was going to drive me up a goddamn wall. With the scout team gone and likely not to return for days since they had to wait for ravens, there was a window of idleness.

Which was how I had convinced Hawke to bring me to Adamant Fortress.

That and incessantly bothering him until he gave in.

Adamant was a humongous structure. A stronghold in truth with its inner and outer baileys. Griffons made of what appeared to be bronze proudly looming over them, guarding. Orlesian banners rustle in the slight breeze, boldly stating their allegiance. Even the battlements were decorated with chiseled hexagons along the fringe.    

"Told you. Not a crack or poop-shoot in sight." Hawke comments from under the shade of a large boulder. Lazily laying with his hands behind his head and swinging his feet back and forth.

Unfortunately he was right.

Adamant was situated on the precipice of a cliff. The yawning canyon below it providing a natural defense for two of its sides. From what could feasibly be reached without magically sprouting wings, there was no way to sneakily get in.

Every inch of stone not protected by a sheer plummet was solid. The battlements and turret towers unblemished by so much as a latrine drain. If we wanted in, it wasn't going to be with stealth.

With a defeated sigh I turn away from the impressive beast of a fortress. Plopping down unceremoniously beside Hawke.

"You don't want to go back yet do you?" Peering at me with one eye.

" _Pffbbt..._ Not particularly. I was hoping for something to do." Leaning back on my hands and looking up at the cloudless sky.

"Want to be a bandit?"

Shifting my gaze to Hawke's devilishly gleeful expression and raising an eyebrow in challenge, "do we get to have code names?"

"Of course! We're not savages." Giving me a look like I was crazy for even asking such a stupid question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Ir abelas, ma lath: (Elven) Loosely; I'm sorry, my love


	38. Chapter 38

In barely contained excitement I crouch within the safety of a cluster of boulders. Eagerly awaiting the arrival of our first mark to crest the small dune nearly thirty yards ahead.

Hawke had chosen the more notorious road to Adamant with which to stalk our quarry. From initial observation he had picked well. This particular spot afforded a clear view of the hard-packed road while offering rock cover on either side. It was a slight sprint from stone to path in total wide open space, but in a desert, you take what you can get. 

Not a single sign indicated where Hawke had concealed himself across the road. I would have wondered if he was actually there if not for our mounts hidden behind me and the fact I had watched as he trotted to his position.

The grind and creak of wood heavily burdened resounds over the sand. Focusing my attention and thoughts to waylaying the Warden convoy.

A single, three-horse wagon overflowing with barrels and what seemed like animal skins slowly peaks the dune. Five fully armored Wardens ride in a protective ring around it, appearing tired and very overheated.

Waiting for the lead rider to align with my position, I burst from cover with my best womanly shriek. Dramatically flinging myself to the ground in front of the shocked men to half-lay on my side, squeezing my breasts together with my arms as I gaze up at them imploringly.

"Oh, help me strong Wardens. Bandits attacked and I was barely able to escape. Please help." Leaning forward and giving an extra fluff of my bosom.

Some eye me with skepticism while the men closest appeared torn between staring at my face and cleavage. Three Wardens quickly dismount, striding to offer their aid.

"Are you injured, my lady?" The nearest one asks as he crouches before me.

"I don't know...Can you check?" Putting on a little pout.

His young face flushes a brilliant crimson as he stammers shyly, "I-I-y-yes." Clearing his throat and putting on a manly front, "Yes, of course, madam."

As he shifts closer I reach up to grasp the collar of his chainmail. His eyes widen in bashful disbelief before its wiped away when I viciously yank him forward to fall on the ground beside me. Hastily rolling over him and not allowing him to recover as I crouch with my knee firmly planted on the back of his neck.

Shouts of outrage ring out as men move to advance, instinctively reaching for their weapons.

"Ah-ah! No one moves or Eager Beaver here goes _pop_." Left palm glowing with energy and hovering over the Warden's head in warning.

"I would listen, bitch be crazy...." Hawke flippantly calls from the opposite side. Twirling his staff nonchalantly as he walks to flank them.

"You are making a huge mistake assaulting us. Do you have any idea who we are?! How dare you!" Another youthful man vehemently hisses. His features closely resembling the person beneath me.

The third Warden; a seasoned veteran by his age, places a silencing hand on his shoulder. Pivoting his torso to keep us both in his sights, he calmly addresses Hawke and myself.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"So happy you asked! You can call me Robin Banks."

His staff beginning to flare with magic as he idly spins it, continuing to circle the Wardens. "The ladies know me as Slithering Miles. We're bandits bent on thieving and whooping ass! Babies cry in fear, women scream in ecstasy, men piss in terror. Together, we are-"

"The Thunder Plunderers!"

Those still on horseback and the Wardens on the ground all gawk at us in varying 'the fuck?' expressions. Probably pondering what the hell we were on.   

Getting a huge kick out of their dumbfounded faces, I lower my hand threateningly over the youth under me. "Drop your weapons then line up and kneel. Once we have what we want, we'll let you go unharmed."

"Otherwise we get to do this the fun way!" Hawke jovially taunts.

"Fu-" The young Warden's words quickly cut-off by his superior. He stares between us for a long moment, judging our sincerity no doubt before he reluctantly unsheathes his sword. Letting it fall to the sand, he moves to the side of the road and silently bows.

Gradually the others follow suit. Tossing their blades in a pile and lining up one by one.

"I'm going to get off you now. Leave your weapon and join your pals. Try anything and I won't hesitate to rearrange that face of yours." I sweetly state, adding just a little pressure to his neck for emphasis. He swallows and works his jaw in anger when I lift away. Defiantly glaring as he jerks his sword from its sheathe and throwing it down. Stiffly the youth kneels with the rest, wordlessly watching for an opening to get revenge.

"Well, that was disappointing." Tapping his staff on his shoulder as he strides to stand with me in front of our captives.

"What can I say? Guess we are just that ridiculously awesome." Fist bumping with Hawke at the easy victory. "Tie them together and send them off?" Gesturing to the Wardens staring at us.

"Yeah, we-"

Hawke snaps his mouth shut as wooden groans and creaks along with the sound of boisterous laughter come from farther down the road. Hearing the noise, lips part to shout for help. With a swift flick of his wrist, Hawke silences the Wardens. Their bodies slumping and collapsing as they succumb to his sleep spell.

"Handy." Rolling back on my heels in appreciation. "Book it? Or try to take them too?"

Puckering his lips and raising both eyebrows in indecision, "live dangerously?"  

I wiggle my mouth back and forth in consideration for a second before shrugging. "Fuck it. Live dangerously."

Nodding, Hawke Fade Steps away to return to his previous hiding place. Blinking in surprise that he knew that skill, I spin around and phase to the boulders. Crouching down just in time to avoid being seen as another party of Wardens appears over the dune.

Their mirth promptly dies when the unattended wagon full of goods and rider-less mounts are spotted. A woman lifts her arm, halting the procession. Her order unquestioned and instantly heeded, marking her as the commander of their group and our prime target.

Seven riders and a tiny one-horse wagon little more than a wheelbarrow make up their company. There were more Wardens to deal with and they were on the alert. Significantly increasing the difficulty of capturing whatever it was they were lugging. However the fact that so many were guarding such a small load made me immensely curious about what it was.

Cautiously the commander waves them forward, proceeding at a measured pace until they were close enough to see their fellow Wardens passed out on the road. Her fist closes at the sight, stopping them once again. With a predatory scan, she eyes the area, taking in the boulders surrounding them on both sides.

With not much that could be done since the cat was out of the bag-I mean, there were literally bodies on display for them to see-I decide to go all in.

I Fade Step to stand partway between the rocks and the road, spacing my feet apart as I point straight at the woman. 

"Behold! You are in the presence of Mad Man Ransacker! I take no prisoners--except for right now! Surrender your cargo and leave your weapons! This is a robbery!"

"Don't test us wench!" Fade Stepping to mimic me out in the open. "I am Fast Fingers Despoiler and we don't play! Quiver in lovely fear for our infamy knows no bounds! We are The Booty Pincers! The antithesis of justice and moral righteousness!" Faces scrunch in expressions of stupefied incredulity as the Wardens glance at each other. "Swindling and pilfering wherever we go! Stealing from the rich and giving to ourselves! Gulping down the tears of our victims like its mother's milk! Slapping down integrity and goodness at every turn is our pastime! Dodging--AH!" Comically squealing like a girl and hastily erecting a barrier as magic is let loose on us.

 _"NUTSACK!"_ Jumping up and evading a ball of flame, feeling the scorching heat as it zings between my legs. Ducking the second I touched down to avoid another fiery sphere.

As the only mages in the group, the wagon driver and the commander were our primary targets. We smash them; the rest would be a cake walk to deal with. Trusting Hawke to handle the woman, I sprint into a Fade Step. Charging to meet Wardens who had swiftly dismounted to join the fray.

A burst of whirling magic as I exit sends sand rippling in a dusty cloud. The balls of my feet digging in as I drive a palm-strike into a swordsman's sternum. Enhancing it with just enough energy to shove him at the woman following close behind. Reflexively I pivot my torso when there's motion from the corner of my vision. Narrowly escaping the downward chop of an axe to my skull. Grasping their shoulder and taking advantage of the forward momentum, I kick their feet out from under them. Tripping the warrior to crash face first into the sand.

Blistering heat slams into the side of my thigh, making my knee buckle from the pain. Not fighting it, I fold in on myself, collapsing into a roll to smother what I was sure was a fire. Smoothly rotating into a  crouch to phase straight at the mage standing atop the wagon's bench. As it ends, I flick a glob of magic that looked sinister at the man's face. He spins his staff to automatically deflect the harmless attack as I had hoped. Hastily I grab the bottom of his staff in both hands and push against the wagon with my feet. Jerking him off balance and over the edge to tumble to the ground.

I leap on his back as he gets to his elbows, wrapping my legs around his ribs and crossing my ankles. Throwing my weight to the side to roll us over as I firmly seize his chin with my left hand and cradle the top of his skull with the right.

"That's far enough!"

"Don't move!"

Hawke and I shout at almost the same time. My breathes coming in heavy pants from the pressure I was having to exert to retain my hold of the struggling mage above me. Cruelly I twist my hands, contorting his neck in warning to cease. Grunting in pain, he stills, heeding my threat but maintaining his clawing grasp on my forearm. 

Sounding a little peeved, Hawke orders the soldiers to lay down their weapons and join the unconscious Wardens. They hesitate only long enough to stare off in the direction I assumed Hawke was before they fling their weapons in fuming defeat. Likely considering their chance of dropping him without murdering their commander in the process.

"You good, Mad Man?" Hawke calls.

"It is Mad Man Ransacker, thank you very much! It's not cool without the Ransacker part! And yes, I'm peachy, Fast Fingers Despoiler!" Turning my head to see that the Wardens had all lined up on their knees, "Don't try to reach for your staff or conjure anything. You do, I'm sending an exploding ball straight for the family jewels and you're going to be shitting out of two holes. Got it?" Squeezing my muscles to show I meant it.

"Got it." Voice strained from having his neck bent at an odd angle. 

"Good boy." I happily chirp.

Abruptly spreading my legs and arms wide to allow him to stand. Slowly he gets up, careful not to make any sudden moves that would appear threatening as he goes to the others. 

I rise with far less enthusiasm than normal. The burn on my thigh beginning to make itself known now that the adrenaline and rush of the fight was dying down. I amble over to Hawke who keeps his staff trained on the commander, trying my best not to limp or show any sign of pain.

"You have us at your mercy. We're defenseless, unarmed. What will you do with us now?" The commander demands, aiming the query at me. Though her voice was rigid and her chin lifted in stubborn daring, there was something in her eyes that appeared almost like a plea. If she believed that because I was a woman I would show leniency or that I would take pity on another female, she was horrendously mistaken.

The sole reason none of them had been killed or injured aside from bruises was that we had only wanted to goof off. I might have no issue killing but walking around cold-bloodedly murdering people willy-nilly hadn't been on the agenda.

"Take your shit of course! We are the Booty Pincers after all. Though I'm a little butt hurt Pew-Pew over there got me, " crossing my arms and looking at Hawke. "And they interrupted your villain monologue. That's tragic."

"Agreed! A perfectly evil speech utterly wasted." _Tsking_ in sadness. "I do believe a punishment is in order."

"You know, they do look awfully hot in that gear." Scratching my chin in mock contemplation.

"Why yes they do. Should we relieve them of it and send them on their way?" Hawke loudly muses while fugitive glances pass amongst the Wardens.

"What kind of monsters would we be if we didn't? Why, its only the immoral thing to do!" I exclaim to the horrified and embarrassed expressions surfacing on the Wardens.

"Too true! Alright everyone strip-y strip time! Oh, and let's not leave your buddies out of the fun!" Waving his empty hand at the sleeping men on the road.

With a snorted laugh, I spin on my heel to go rummage through their saddle bags and retrieve their water skins. Listening attentively to the curses and refusals from the men all the while, ready to help lay the smack down if they thought to rally against Hawke.

Arms filled, I turn back to see a group of very mortified and very naked Wardens. Their bodies flushing a brilliant crimson as they hunch and try to cover themselves.

Bursting into uncontrollable mirth at the sight, I take stumbling strides back. Unable to walk straight from laughing so hard. Dropping the pile of skins on the road, I step back to stand beside Hawke and the still guarded commander.   

"The mages?" Pretty confident they would try something the second we weren't threatening their leader anymore.

"Covered!" Hawke gleefully sings as he taps his staff on the woman's head in a bopping gesture. Collapsing her like a sack of potatoes and flicking another sleep spell at the driver before the man even knew what was happening. "Off you go now!"

Chuckling while I watch the Wardens bend to hoist their unconscious comrades and gather their water.

"You didn't even let them have their underwear, huh?" Giggling and shaking my head as I see some very pale asses retreat down the road. "You're the best."

"I know." He arrogantly quips with a goofy smile, lazily throwing his arm over my shoulders. Causing me to snort at the cockiness as I feel Hawke's bouncy magic zip to my singed leg.

"Weapon down and lay on the ground, knaves!" A stern voice yells from behind us, our bodies stiffening at the unexpected presence.

We look to each other out of the corner of our eyes, wordlessly agreeing to prepare to split and bring the beat down on whomever it was.

"I said drop! I won't tell you again! We are the Inquisition and have full authority to put you down like the mongrels you are!" The woman snarls, an arrow whistling to lodge into the sand next to our feet to punctuate her words.

Hawke outright hoots in amusement as I choke back a laugh, finding the irony hilarious.

"Wait! Don't shoot! Inquisitor here!" Pointing to myself. "I'm going to raise my left palm so you can see!" Slowly lifting my hand straight into the air and activating the anchor so the luminous green glow could be seen by all.

"Andraste's Mercy!"

"Maker preserve us!"

"Forgive us, your Worship! Pardon! We were unaware of your presence here! We believed you had remained at Griffon's Keep!"

Letting the rest of the tension drain away at the shocked and fearful exclamations coming from our backs, I twist around to see four scouts kneeling in solemn respect. Panic and alarm clearly written on their downturned faces at raising arms against their leader.

"It's cool guys, get up. I'm just happy I didn't get a shaft to the spine." I flippantly say, waving for them to stop bowing and stand.

"Apologies again, Inquisitor." The woman declares as they all straighten. "It was a close thing. We would have shot first but saw that you had left the Wardens unharmed. We thought bandits that showed mercy deserved a chance for the same."

"Lucky...." Hawke comments with a whistle, rocking back on his heels.

The scout bites her lip, appearing to hesitate before pressing on, "my Lady...if I may, why are you pretending to be outlaws?"

"Boredom." Giving her an 'eh' shrug. "Cassandra is supposed to be finding you guys to send a message out to Leliana and there was nothing to do. Why are you guys out here? No way they were able to get a raven to Skyhold and back so fast." By my estimation, even if Cassandra's team went to the closer second Inquisition outpost, they would have only been there for little more than a day. Certainly not enough time to get any messages back.

"Mistress Harding received word of questionable activity within the Hissing Wastes and has taken a group to assess it. Scout Charter was left in charge and has kept tabs of your team, your Worship. She was aware of Griffon Keep's capture and already had scouts on route to offer assistance in its manning. We-"gesturing to the three others with her, "-were part of the squad. Lady Seeker split us to begin harassing the Wardens while taking the rest back to the fort. They should have arrived long ago."

All mirth dying a swift death, "say what now." both Hawke and I freezing at the news. Our eyes widening as we look at each other with 'oh shit' expressions.

Glancing between the two of us, her brow furrows in confusion at our looks. "Lady Cassandra and your team should all be within Griffon Keep awaiting ravens...Scout Charter made sure we were supplied with them..."

"Cassandra...broody, stern, can-break-you-without-effort, Cassandra knows we're gone...." Hawke mumbles, staring at me in horror.

"And is waiting..." I add.

As one we about face, sprinting as quick as we can to our horses. Leaving the scouts to deal with our stolen haul without so much as a farewell. Knowing we were so screwed when we returned.


	39. Chapter 39

They had only been gone for little more than half a day and yet Cassandra couldn't help feeling as though something wasn't quite right.

She sighed in relief as the scouts and her team rode into Griffon Keep. Letting the tension she had been unaware she was holding drain away at the sight of everything being just as it was before their departure.

Cassandra wheels her horse to the side, allowing the others room to filter in to the courtyard and dismount. Scanning the small enclosure reflexively as she alights from her own. Noting Varric and Alistair speaking in hurried whispers as they descend the inner bailey stairwell. With the confidence of a seasoned expert, Solas directs his horse to halt beside hers. Making her wonder- not for the first time, how an apostate had come to master such a skill as he lithely swings from the saddle. Admiring the fluid grace that seemed inherent to the Elven race with the eye of a warrior.

 _Though not the Inquisitor_. Cassandra thinks with an amused snort. The finesse and smooth elegance that clung naturally to every elf was sorely lacking in her. But perhaps that was not such a bad thing. Instead she had an air that relaxed those around her and let you forget the horrors of the world. A rare talent indeed in times like this.

"As you can see, we have returned much sooner than expected. There are some things to discuss, where is the Inquisitor?" Looking to Varric as the men stride to join her. More than a little surprised that the Inquisitor was not already waiting to greet them.

Or more accurately, Solas.

She had been very dogged in her seduction of the poor man, to which Cassandra had secretly been cheering her support. However the Inquisitor was suspiciously absent and the nagging sensation that something was off came creeping back.

The expressions of uncomfortable nervousness on the men's faces only increased it tenfold.

"Well, uhm-you see..."

"Little problem with that, Seeker..." kneading his neck in a show of anxiety. "Ah, Andraste's sword. There's no easy way to say it. The Inquisitor's gone and so is Hawke."

"...Excuse me?" Her voice deadly calm and witnessing Solas' hands still on his saddle from her peripheral. Even with his back turned, she knew they held his full attention.

"They snuck out to go 'Inquisitorying'." Producing a short letter from his pocket and handing it to her. "I wouldn't worry too much; they'll be back in a few days I'm sure. Completely bright-eyed and bushy tailed from some misadventure."

Fuming, she glances through the contents of the hastily written note as she hears Solas' exasperated sigh. Glad she wasn't the only one not happy about an unaccounted for Inquisitor.

"I knew I should have brought one of them with us! Your Champion is a menace!" Glaring down at Varric as though it was somehow his fault for not keeping Hawke in line.

"Whoa, whoa there, Seeker," raising his palms in a placating gesture. "Let's not throw stones. We _are_ talking about Glow Bait here. She's just as bad--if not worse, than Hawke."

"Which is precisely why I am going to throttle the both of them when they return." Marching off in worried anger. Debating if it was appropriate to spank the leader of the Inquisition and the Champion of Kirkwall like misbehaving children.

However, her irritation was quickly giving way to concern as they came upon the second night with still no sign of them. Fretfully pacing the catwalk in her anxiety and frequently stopping to stare out into the night as if willpower alone would miraculously conjure them.

"You will whittle the stone down in your worry, Seeker." Solas evenly states as he moves to gaze out at the pitch darkness beside her, his expression the picture of composure. "For all of their frivolous demeanor, they are exceptionally gifted."

"That is exactly what worries me," releasing a tired breath as she rubs her forehead. "They're impulsive risk takers that need someone to taper them down. Who knows what kind of trouble they are getting into...."

Cassandra's voice trailing off as a blazing orb of light zings into the night sky far in the distance. Casting sandy dunes and rocks in radiant artificial daylight. Illuminating a sight that leaves them frozen and their eyes widening. 

"TO ARMS!" Cassandra shouts, spinning on her heel to race after Solas who was already down the battlements.   

~

Tonight was another moonless night which was crappy for us. It made for annoyingly slow travel when all we wanted was to get back. Having to trust our mounts that they would keep to semi-firm, level ground since we could only see a few yards in front of us.

Hooves dig in for purchase as the road--at least I hoped it was still the road--slopes upward to take us over a dune. My horse doing a small hop at the top and what I see has me fist pumping the air in victory. For burning like a beacon in the dark is none other than Griffon Keep.

"Alright, game plan. We scale the mountain, climb inside the keep, and pretend we never left."

"Perfect. Except for the giant four-legged luggage." Pointing sarcastically at our steeds.

" _Pffbt!_ We leave them at the base and sneak them inside in the morning." Waving his excuse away. "Now the real pro--Yih!" Jolting ramrod straight.

"What?"

"Ow, something bit me." Reaching to my back to rub the stinging spot. "The fuck?!" When seeking fingers encounter what felt like a needle.

"What's--Shiiit!" His hand rising to slap his neck.

Both of us yank three inch long needles out of our skin at the same time. Our eyes briefly meeting before my horse rears up with a shrill neigh. Viciously bucking me off to crash to the ground before she bolts in panic.   

Confused fear and uncertainty seize me as I roll to my knees, not sure what was happening or what to do. The eerie silence and pitch darkness surrounding us on all sides only intensifying my alarm.

"Get on! Hurry!" Hawke yells, holding his arm out for me.

It cuts through the fog of startled fright, snapping me to awareness. Hastily I jump to my feet, ready to sprint to him when a sharp whoosh followed by the sound of wet meat being hit halts me. A squeal of pain rends the air as Hawke's horse topples over. Thrashing from being pierced by a huge boomerang to its barreled chest. Hawke flings himself from the saddle to avoid being pinned by the heavy body. I Fade Step to him, grabbing his arm to help pull him to his feet as he smoothly slips the staff from his back, lifting it in the air to brightly glow.

Its blaze lights up the figures of dozens of darkspawn crawling, crouching, and stalking their way over the sand. Hurlocks, Genlocks, and Shrieks completely encompass us on three sides, converging to swarm us at once. A fearful sight to be sure but one that we could potentially handle. At least until two very colossal outlines shift outside the perimeter of Hawke's light.   

"Aw, fuck."

"Oh, we ded." I glibly remark before spinning around.

"Run!" We shout together, breaking into Fade Steps as quick as we can. Trying our best to phase to Griffon Keep and away from the cluster fuck behind us. Our magic feeling so ridiculously lethargic as we race across the sand, not even minimally closing the distance before shit hits the fan.

Hawke's sprinting form beside me suddenly tumbles in a tangle of limbs as a Genlock plows into him from behind. I skid to a halt as I turn to see what had happened just as another Genlock is thrown through the air like a living bowling ball. 

"WAH!" Launching myself to the side to avoid becoming a pin and popping up into a wide stance just as Hawke tosses the Genlock away with a blast of magic. 

His staff flares intensely as Hawke looks at me with determination, "We're going to have to fight little lady. That poison they got us with is already kicking in, we'll never make it to the fort. Pray the others see this." Flicking his wrist hard, he sends the blinding energy straight into the sky. Its beaming light hovering to bathe the surrounding area in a sort of false sunshine.

"We going to die from it?" Resolutely drawing my daggers as darkspawn rush to catch up. Flexing my fingers on the hilt in nervousness and unable to suppress the twinge of terror at the thunderous pounding of a gigantic body charging.

"Probably not. They like to use a numbing agent to bring down their prey so they can take captives." His body tensing in preparation as creatures break into the halo of light one after the other.

"Then we're not going down here. Balls to the wall, Hawke." I fiercely order.

"Balls to the wall." He solemnly agrees.

I push hard into a Fade Step, meeting darkspawn in the dead center. Wanting to be away from Hawke when I let my powers loose. These were opponents I couldn't afford to hesitate with. A stray blade, blood spatter, drool--whatever; and it was all over. It was time to go full throttle, consequences be damned.

I send jagged waves of magic to slice through the Hurlocks in my way just as Hawke's protective energy tingles over me. Shielding me from the sudden blistering cold that envelopes our circle of light, freezing some enemies while others struggled against the bitter blizzard.

Screeching cries pierce my ears as Shrieks dash with lightning like agility into the light, seemingly unaffected by the cold. Their speed too swift to feasibly fight with my level of skill. I slash out with large torrents of magic, creating oversized currents they couldn't dance away from. Pivoting my hips to propel a surge of energy in a stream to split more of the advancing ranks.

Suffocating heat burns from behind, growing in intensity until a boulder-sized inferno shoots past. Slamming into a group of darkspawn in an explosion of fire.

Animalistic roars echo in the night as enormous bodies burst from the dark. Their massive strides eating up the distance in a bone-chilling charge. Pure terror roots me as they barrel down, the pounding beat of my heart feeling as though it would burst.    

"AKIRA! WE'RE NOT DYING HERE!" Hawke staunchly yells, hurling another meteor to crash into the Hurlocks surrounding me.

_...not here._

Swallowing in fear and mustering myself enough to summon a violent whirlwind. Stumbling back when a Shriek is brutally thrown into it, nearly causing it to drop from the impact.

 _Not here._ Shaking my head hard and inhaling deeply to push down the choking panic. _There's shit to do and elves to bother!_

Obstinately shoring up the tumultuous cyclone just as another body is chucked into it. I barely register the ground beneath my feet beginning to quake, my heart squeezing with fright before a savage blow collides with my magic. Its force knocking me down and thinning the whirling currents to the point I can see an Ogre towering above me, raising its meaty fists in a clubbing motion. The other roaring ferally as it retreats enough to attempt another ram.

Breathes come in frantic pants as I fight to keep a level head, on the verge of a panic attack. Crudely dumping energy into the weakened storm in my haste. Throwing it up to completely encompass me in a malevolent sphere as I rush to stand.

Only managing to get to an awkward crouch before a jarring hit slams me down on one knee. Grinding my teeth and hissing in pain as I rapidly funnel energy into the maelstrom above me to keep it going as another harsh strike rebounds off. The brutal impacts continuing to pummel my magic in a relentless assault that took everything just to remain kneeling at the onslaught.

Time seems to move horrifyingly slow as I struggle to maintain the tremendous energy. Channeling magic that seemed like it was heeding my call in a much more sluggish pace. Forcing me to use more energy to make up for the delay as my limbs became increasingly fatigued and weak.

I had no way of knowing if it was because I was going into mana burn or if it was the poison finally overcoming my adrenaline rush to bring me down. Either way I knew I was reaching the end and I couldn't sustain the level of power needed to avoid a very messy death for much longer.

I clench my jaw determinedly as I bring my arms to cross above me. Hunching in on myself as I draw the chaotic vortex closer to my body. Tightening the hold on my magic and demanding more gather to collect in a portent of wild energy. The frenzied currents whirling around me in an unsteady sphere, violently fighting against being restrained.

"Suck on the awesome, bitches!"

Simply releasing my control all at once as I drive to my feet. Cringing at the deafening whoosh and shrill whistling piercing the air. Sand and earth kicks up as magic expands in a massive swell of murderous currents. Rippling out in a billowing sweep to cleave everything in its path.   

Wheezing heavily as I watch the Ogres rear back with stumbling steps as they're cruelly shredded and slashed, their bodies splitting open like fillets. My eyes widen as one falls while the other merely drops to all fours at the assault. Both thrash and shake at the painful wounds but don't die. I gape in shock as instead, they begin to heal from the substantial gashes. Two pairs of eyes fall on me, intensely focusing on my shuddering form.

"Fuck!" Haphazardly engulfing myself within a sphere once again as roars of rage resound.   

_Fuck! Don't tell me those dingle-berries are resistant to magic. Who the hell decided to give them that too?! 'Oh, these creatures aren't shitty enough. I know, I'll harden them against magic!'. UGH! Fuck!_

A viciously rough impact puts me to my knee as my magic is struck in an attempt to shatter it. Another quickly follows, dropping me to both knees. I relentlessly shove energy into my spell, trying to keep it holding firm. Another strike, then another, mercilessly beats against the whirling vortex. Repeating over and over; each more jarring than the last. Driving me into the ground, my body and magic weakening from the strain as I struggle to remain fighting.

I collapse on my back, barely capable of maintaining the sphere any longer. Arms thrust up and battling to continue to feed energy into it as the ruthless battering persists. My limbs tremble uncontrollably as numbness and exhaustion eat at me.

Spots begin to dance across my vision. My magic incrementally lagging more and more. Arms quake with stronger tremors as they're slowly driven down by the unrelenting hammering and fatigue.  

"...shit...Shit...SHIT!" I shout in angry denial.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY!

They rode hard for the guiding light, pushing the poor beasts to their limit. Watching in hopelessness as hordes of darkspawn filled the luminous aura. Watched as the Champion of Kirkwall hurled potent magic into the descending masses. Witnessed as he struggled against the tide, felling creatures only to have more take their place. His proud figure valiantly fighting to remain standing as an unseen force dragged him down.

Bleakly realizing we would never arrive in time to save him.

_And the Inquisitor. Where was their Inquisitor?_

Varric's anguished cry of despair and denial echoes over the thunder of hooves as the Champion sinks to his knees, slumping to lean heavily against his staff. The harsh cough of Bianca being desperately shot casting the night into a symphony of grief.

There's a moment of eerie stillness that engulfs the very air. Creating a silent void and the feeling of being suspended before it all rushes back in a deafening crescendo. Great, swelling magic explodes outwards in an ever expanding bubble from the center of the turmoil. Seemingly devouring  everything indiscriminately, consuming darkspawn and Champion alike in its deadly gale. 

Animals skid to a panicked halt and arms raise to shield our faces just as our bodies are struck by the surged blowback. Coughing and chocking on the clouds of sand as we try to peer through the gritty haze and press on.

Tensing at the sound of beastly roars accompanied by the booming pound of a massive force striking an object. A wrinkled wave of energy flows from the mages to clear the thick screen of dust, parting it like a curtain to reveal utter devastation. Disturbed earth and chunks of rock cover the haloed area. Barely distinguishable limbs and corpses lay scattered throughout the destruction, severely sliced and mangled from the torrent of power. A shimmering body lays sprawled at the edge of the light's perimeter, appearing to miraculously be the sole survivor of the massacre.

"Champion!"

"Hawke!"

Reining in hard to dismount in a rush and converge on the fallen mage. Our racing strides faltering in horror as the remainder of the dust cloud disperses and the source of the quaking hammering is exposed.  

Two heavily injured Ogres bash and ram a whirling sphere in a ruthless assault. Punching out with giant fists and crashing into it to brutally grind their horns in an attempt to break through the speeding currents.

Our focus shifting at the sickening sight of the sphere being driven further and further to ground with each vicious strike. Its whirlwind gradually losing strength and speed, shrinking as it struggled to maintain form. Magic and arrows swiftly fly in the hopes of diverting them away from their prey as weapons slide from their sheathes. Our legs pumping to charge the colossal beasts and get them off the weakening orb before it failed.

Cassandra's chest squeezed painfully when both Ogres smash down together. Feeling frustration and dread resound as the tempest bursts in a pulse of energy before anyone can reach it.

~

Hands fall as I finally succumb to the numbness. Willpower and stubbornness alone no longer able to stave off the inevitable.     

_No! No!_

Battling the mindless fear that threatened to suffocate me, using the anger and desire to live to remain present as my magic ruptures in a flurry of wind. Putting everything I had left into twisting to my side in a futile bid for survival. Intending to crawl as far as I could to delay the end in a last _fuck you_ to Thedas.

My failing vision catching the racing figures of Iron Bull and Cassandra just as dancing magic envelopes me in a protective shell. Halting the grasping talons bearing down on me. Feeling more than seeing Solas' energy ghost across the sand to plow into the looming beasts.

"SOLAS!"

The relieved cry sounding more like a plea as a choked sob escapes me. _They made it. He was here. You can't die in front of him. Keep going! Push a little more, just a little more!_

Fruitlessly trying to drag my listless body away from the battering claws.

"GET UP, _VHENAN_!"

Vaguely hearing the feral roars of the Ogres and feeling the quake of an immense mass charging as I struggle to obey. The desperation and terror growing as Dorian's magic flickers from the continued assault of the remaining Ogre.

"I can't!...i can't solas..." Resting my forehead in defeat and unable to suppress a panicked sob when magic shatters above me.    

Rough, bloody talons seize me in a crushing grip. Lifting and swinging me to see the battlefield for a split second. Able to spot the squad fiercely combating the other Ogre while trying to come to my aid before the terrain begins to rush underneath me.

Not even capable of offering a feeble resistance as the darkspawn carries me from salvation.

The tingling of potent energy swiftly bearing down comes before its suddenly on us. Mercilessly barreling into the legs of the Ogre clutching me.

The rumbled growl as its sent flipping and rolling over the ground reverberates in my ears. Its punishing grasp vanishing as I'm flung away to bounce and slide to a stop on my shoulder. Feeling shooting pain the instant I tried to move. Certain I had sustained sprains if not outright dislocations from the hard wipe out.

Snarls drift from the darkness to my helpless form within the edge of light. Using terror induced strength to get to my elbows, I peer into the night. Like an enraged animal the Ogre twists to find me, digging deep furrows in the sand as it rushes on all fours when it does.

All coherent thought flees at the sight, on the verge of hyperventilating as I curl into a ball and brace myself.

A mass of flame streaks across the clearing, throwing up dust in its wake to crash into the charging darkspawn. Toppling it with brutal force and appearing to actually hurt it as the Ogre thrashes in pain. The reprieve lasting only a moment it seems as it quickly shakes itself and lumbers to its feet. Huffing like a large and very pissed off beast.

The heavily armored figures of Alistair and Blackwall rush in its path, shouting great war-cries as they separate to each take a side. Attempting to sandwich it in-between them and divide its attention. Slashing and cutting the thick hide as deeply as they can then spinning away to avoid lethal claws.

Spells rain from farther within the fray, providing support to the Warriors. Hampering the Ogre's movements and gradually appearing to weaken it.

Breathes begin to calm, believing the end was near and I would make it out of this. Watching as a ball of fire explodes in the Ogre's eyes, causing it to rear back violently and swipe at its face. Realizing at the same time as everyone else that the combined attacks had made it berserk. 

In desperate; mindless fury, the Ogre roars. Utterly disregarding the strikes and magic carving into its flesh to bum-rush me; single-mindedly bent on finishing its purpose.

With a flurry of movement, a figure vaults to stand over me and swiftly slams down a dense wall of energy. A grunted hiss passing their lips when the Ogre's colossal weight rams their magic in a jarring collision. The skull adorning their staff flaring eerily to unflinchingly channel power into their spell even as horns savagely ground into their barrier.

"Can you stand?" Voice sounding strained.

"N-no." Cursing my weakness and the overwhelming desire to cry at the sight of Solas.

He grits his teeth, bracing to withstand the last of the Ogre's blows as efforts by the others redouble. Ruthlessly giving everything they had to take it down. As it slowly begins to slink to its knees against Solas' barrier, burning embers spread over the sparkling wall. Body tensing, Solas snaps his wrists hard, sending the scorching energy straight into the dying darkspawn to efficiently end it.

Sparing only enough time to be sure it was truly dead, Solas spins around to quickly kneel beside me. His eyes worriedly roving over my body and lingering on the blood smearing my torso.

"Were you cut?" The soothing heat of his magic already running over my skin to locate the small hurts.

"It's not mine." Limply gesturing to the blood. "It's the Ogre's. Nothing got me." I clench my jaw as my voice begins to crack and face starts to scrunch, fighting the urge to cry as I look at his face.

_Keep it in. You will not weep like a giant girl. You're not a pussy. Keep. It. In!_

Solas' eyes soften at the struggling expression, "It's alright." His tone gentle as he tenderly strokes the hair from my face.

"No, it's not alright." Trying my best to hold it together. "You have horrible timing! Calling me _vhenan_ when I can't even enjoy it. I want to stuff your head in the sand and I want to hug you but there's stupid darkspawn blood a-all o-over me!" Snapping my mouth shut when the sob escapes and tears put everything in a watery blur.

There's a quiet thud of something being dropped then strong hands lovingly cup my face. Feather light kisses trail over my cheeks before I'm pulled into a warm embrace. His arms tightly enfolding me as he rests his chin on the top of my head.

I bury my head in his chest, clutching Solas as hard as my waning strength allowed. Huddling into the comforting hold as I fought to maintain a dauntless facade and failing.

_I will not cry. I will not cry. Fuck, I'm crying. Argh! Stuff it back in, woman!_

Feeling a sense of safety and normalcy return as Solas' presence acts like a restorative balm. Rubbing my eyes on his tunic, I tilt my head to gaze at him.

"Hawke. How is Hawke?"

"In trouble. Just as you are, Inquisitor. Though that can wait until we are back within Griffon Keep." Cassandra states as she picks her way over the carnage. "I have never heard of darkspawn behaving so determinedly. I wonder what made them so focused on you." Seeming to speak more to herself then expecting an answer as she took in the grisly aftermath.

"Brightly shinning. Potent strength. They wanted it for the children." Comes Cole's soft spoken words from behind me before he steps to quietly offer a small vial of lyrium to Solas.

"Children?" Confusion crossing Cassandra's face as Solas takes the gift with a grateful nod.

 _"Rugh.._ Sounds like Broodmothers...Eww." Alistair supplies with a disgusted shudder. "Female captives turned Blighted. They're what the darkspawn use to reproduce."

"You mean they wanted me so I could pop forth a swarm of horrifying creepiness? Score! Stuff of dreams right there." Giving a feeble thumbs up from within Solas' arms.

Sighing, "it is a scenario you should not take such pleasure in, Akira." Pulling back from my hold and reaching for his staff.

"Agreed. Broodmothers are...just woof...very, very harsh to look at." Alistair remarks with a comical sour expression. "Do you need me to carry you Inquisitor?" Upon noting my continued frail appearance even after being healed.

"That won't be necessary." Solas smoothly cuts in as he slings his staff across his back. Leaning forward he scoops me up and fluidly rises to his feet.    

"How are you feeling, Inquisitor? Is it your mana? I can see if Dorian or Lady Vivienne have extra potions." Blackwall inquires as he joins our little procession to the others.

Resting my head on Solas' shoulder and happily closing my eyes, "nah, don't worry about it, Blackwall. It's just the poison." Realizing the second it leaves my mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. I keep my eyes shut, wanting to face-palm at the slip as dismayed exclamations ring out and the body holding me stiffens.

"...Pardon?"

Hesitantly cracking a lid open at Solas' deathly calm tone, "Hawke said it was a paralytic?" I gingerly offer at the furious pinch to his features.

"And if it is not? Did you not think it prudent to share your condition with us?" A muscle in his jaw ticking as he hastens his strides .

"...whoops?" Weakly smiling and earning a firmer displeased press of his lips.

"I think I might have something for the both of them if pretty boy is right about what it is." I hear Iron Bull confidently assert when we near the others. 

Expression saying 'he better be', Solas beelines for his mount. Taking care to gently settle me in the saddle and checking I wouldn't fall before bounding up to sit behind me. His arm looping to snuggly draw me against him as he wheels the horse around to return to Griffon Keep.

"Judging by the expressions, I'm going to say you're mad..." Hawke wearily mutters from astride Alistair's mount.

"Yes!" Comes the instant livid retorts from multiple sources.

"...knew it." Sounding sulky.

I relax back, mentally crossing my fingers we would be rendered unconscious by the drug and escape the imminent oral spanking.


	41. Chapter 41

I sway to the rhythm of the horse in slumped deadweight. Solas' firm hold the only thing separating me from a nasty tumble as we ride through the portcullis. Mind drifting in fuzzy limbo land and not entirely aware of what was happening anymore from the poison. Without adrenaline or fear to dull the effects, I was experiencing the drug in all its fun glory. Body and mind floating in a twilight dream state of complete and utter detachment. Plated hands grip my ribs, tipping me from the saddle, "wee!" blinking owlishly as I open my eyes to smile at Blackwall.

"Can you put your arms around me?" The continued loopy smile his only response. "Never mind." Chuckling as he hefts my limp form to settle more securely in his arms before taking hurried strides to the assembly hall.

Scouts run ahead to quickly strip cots in preparation for Hawke and myself. Their arms full when we enter and two beds stand bare of linen. With utmost care, Blackwall releases me to lie back as Hawke is settled with slightly less concern on an adjacent cot.

Barely capable of shifting to lay on my side; my fog addled brain vaguely notes that some of our number was missing and Hawke didn't look all that worse for wear.

Seating himself on the edge of the bed, Varric smirks down at his bleary eyed friend. "Just couldn't go a week without causing chaos and mass hysteria, huh?"

"...it's an art..." Appearing as though he had no clue what was going on but able to somehow produce a playful wink for Varric.

"I'm happy you find enjoyment in this, Champion." Marching to stand between our cots and crossing her arms as Cassandra frowns down at the both of us. "You know what I find enjoyable? Not fighting through darkspawn unnecessarily. Not having to pray that the sole hope for Thedas doesn't die from poisoning. What were the both of you thinking leaving without telling anyone? In the middle of hostile territory and a possible looming war no less! Both of you are considered valuable targets by Corypheus! If it was known you were traipsing around- unescorted, unprotected- there would be no end to the lengths he would go to find you. You endangered not only yourselves; and these men and women who braved darkspawn to save you, but all of Thedas as well! You are all that is standing between Corypheus and the thousands of innocent lives he threatens. And for what? For some fun? To alleviate boredom?"

I simply blink up at her furious visage. Most of what she's saying going in one ear and out the other thanks to the drug induced siesta. Hawke on the other hand; being marginally more cognizant, unwisely decided to comment.

Grinning absentmindedly at Cassandra, "...so sexy when you're mad... I don't know what's happening but yay...."

"shh, shut up." I mutter at Hawke. Experiencing a moment of lucidity and realizing Cassandra would just berate us again if she knew we weren't conscious of shit right now. "Varric, smother him...smother him...go night, night...." Losing the short bout of coherency quickly and shutting my eyes to rest for a second.    

"Impossible! The both of you!" Throwing her hands in the air with a disgusted noise as Varric merely laughs from his perch at Hawke's feet.

"Waiting until the toxin is purged to scold them will not make your criticism any less effective, Seeker." Solas evenly states as he saunters into the room with Iron Bull.

"Give me a minute to mix this and they should be right as rain and good to go." Lifting two vials and a packet up to show everyone as he moves to the central table.

Varric snorts in humor. "So says the man who looked like he wanted to strangle our dear Inquisitor."

"Perhaps not strangle."

Feeling a presence near my head and hearing Solas' teasing voice, I sluggishly open my eyes. Face splitting with a dopey smile when I see him above me, " _hee..._ you're pretty." and turning his attention down to me.

Amusement lights his eyes as Solas crouches to pet my hair amid the chuckles from the others. "Thank you."

Tone taking on a wistful quality, "...especially when you're mad...so hot." Mind completely gone on vacation.

Solas' cheeks flush the tiniest bit and he clears his throat, "Bull, how is that tonic coming?"

"Almost done. Do I need to hurry?" Too far away to hear the ramblings but not the mirth valiantly being stifled by our rapt audience.

"...when you get that snarl or crease in your brows going, super sexy...and your serious face," giggling groggily, "panty dropper if i wore any~"

"Haste would be appreciated."

"-it would be nice if you did your cold expression when you're naked, though--no! during sex." Frowning in profound contemplation, "can you do that? looking uncaring while fu-"

"Bull! If you would!" Solas' embarrassed entreaty drowning me out as intense red suffuses his face and ears, the blush deepening to a magnificent crimson for all to see.

"Oh, this is definitely going into my next book."

"I believe we have uncovered our Inquisitor's motivation for behaving impulsively." Cassandra chuckles, unable to help teasing the normally collected apostate.

Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Solas remains silent, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. Still vacantly smiling at him, he hoists me to a sitting position as Iron Bull joins us with two cups in hand. "It will take a few minutes to kick in and they're going to be tired afterwards. Other than that, they'll be fine by morning." Offering a cup to Solas before turning to aid Cassandra with Hawke.

Bringing the rim to my lips, he tilts the mug's contents into my mouth. Almost instantly making me twist away with a disgusted grimace and gag. The disturbingly vile taste punching through the dreamy cloud as Solas resolutely presses it to my lips again.

"Drink all of it, and try to keep it down."

I retch, tears forming at the foul flavor but somehow managing to gulp it down. My eyes glaring bloody murder at Solas for forcing me to consume that monstrosity as I fought the urge to vomit. Although, the image of throwing up on him in retaliation was beginning to hold some appeal at the moment.

"She's covered with tainted blood. The Inquisitor will likely require your assistance in bathing, Seeker." Absently rubbing soothing circles on my shoulder as he addresses Cassandra.

"Dorian had the tub in the West wing filled; take it. Gives me a chance to _really_ give him a reason to need it." Smirking devilishly as he moves away.

Feebly I stretch my legs, feeling a buzzing tingle spread through my system as the antidote takes effect. Clearing away some of the stupor and nudging me to a more cognizant state. "i can't walk." I sulk with a mumble.

"Solas, could you...?" An incline of his head in answer. "Varric, will you be staying with Hawke?"

I don't hear Varric's response, more interested in happily draping myself over Solas when he moves to carry me. As he rises and pivots to exit the hall, I meet Cassandra's eyes over his shoulder.

 _Stay. Here._ I mouth, pointing to the ground and giving her my most 'I mean business' look behind Solas' back.

From the dancing light in her eyes and hand covering her mouth to hide a giant smile, my message was received loud and clear. Solas' gaze turns to focus on me, probably having felt my signing. Gleefully I snuggle closer, burying my face against his neck while running my fingers along the back of his skull. Savoring the feel of his skin. Contentedly Solas rubs his jaw over my hair, seeming satisfied to let me do as I pleased as he takes us through the hall.

Extreme exhaustion begins to seize me in its iron grasp, towing me down into a muddled fog once again as he walks. I inhale deeply, taking in Solas' intoxicating scent. Its enticing spice doing nothing but binding me in a needy haze. Lazily I press kisses to the vulnerable flesh beneath my lips; the idle caress of his scalp gradually slowing as slumber calls to me.

I feel his steady pulse quicken and his arms tighten at the light brush. Making me want to continue but the incredible drowsiness was difficult to fight.

 _The spirit is strong but the body is weak._ I dryly muse with a smirk.

Solas comes to a halt and bows slightly, a hand leaving me for a brief moment then the sound of a door opening drifts to my ears. Tiredly I look up to see where we were.

By the clutter lining the walls, Solas had brought us to a storeroom for excess furniture. Settees, chairs, and a few tables have been pushed and stacked off to the side to create a small area free of the disorder. A large, clawfoot brass tub reminiscent of something found in the Victorian era rests alone in the empty space. Its deep basin invitingly filled with cooled water.

Stepping inside, Solas moves to stand beside it and sets me down on wobbly feet. Keeping an arm securely wrapped around my waist, he bends to dip his fingers in the now chilled water. His hand flaring with light as steam slowly begins to waft from the watery surface.

Straightening and twisting to glance at the vacant corridor behind, "Cassandra will be along sho-"

"nope. you're it." Smiling tiredly at him and swaying the tiniest bit.

Solas blinks in stunned silence then slowly shakes his head. "Akira..."

"can you get these?" Clumsily lifting a leg to offer him my foot.

His eyes narrow and the corner of his mouth twitches in amusement as he studies me. I raise my arms to drape them over his shoulders when ethereal hands languidly travel down my thigh to remove my boot. Fuzzily I present the other leg as a gust of magic softly pushes the door closed behind us, my shoe dropping with a fateful thud.

"clothes too." I happily chirp.

He spreads his fingers, sliding his palms almost reverently over my skin and under the straps of my halter. I rise on my toes, arching forward in offering as warm hands move to cup my breasts. And giving a frustrated huff as instead they teasingly skim over my ribs and peel the flimsy bra from my body. I inhale, thrusting full breasts in invitation at the expression of hunger and longing in eyes darkened to an incredible shade of grey and storm. Knuckles graze over an aching peak as unhurried, Solas lets his hands wander to the waist of my trousers.

With deft fingers he snaps the buttons, shifting his body closer as hands slip under the waistband to shove the material from my hips while hotly trailing their way to cup my ass. Fabric falls to pool at my calves and I wiggle to get them the rest of the way down. Gripping the back of his neck as beautiful grey eyes focus on my lips. Shivering as I lean up to pull Solas' mouth to mine.

Warm breath mingles with my own in a faint brush of his lips against mine before drawing back, "wash, _vhenan_."

"join me," my hands drifting down his chest to his belt.

Solas clasps the seeking fingers, "you've had a traumatic night and are recovering. I do not wish to take advantage."

Grinning sleepily at his chivalry, "that's cute. but I plan to take advantage of you so it works out just fine." Tugging on his belt in emphasis, "off."

He chuckles softly and sighs in defeat. Taking a step back, Solas moves to remove his clothes as a I watch in giddy delight. His actions steady and sure as belt then tunic are tossed to land with my own discarded attire. Hazily realizing I still had my gloves on, I hastily yank them off when Solas reaches to pull his under armor over his head. The sight of his marvelously toned body pokes through my drowsiness and rips an appreciative groan from me.

Not able to help myself, I place my hands on his stomach. Spreading my fingers wide to touch as much glorious skin as I could. Feeling muscles tense as I run my palms up the smooth expanse of his chest before sliding them back down admiringly as I step close and rise to capture his mouth.

Lush lips meet partway to hungrily glide over mine, tweaking them to part for a deeper joining. Solas' tongue delves to taste and explore, putting me in a needy fog. I rub against the hard press of his body, wanting more. Fingers find his hips to desperately grip the waist of his leggings, and force them down to mid-thigh.

A hand fists in my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss, as the other pulls me flush against hot skin. Noise similar to wood splintering and cracking comes from nearby as I cradle Solas' head and fervently return his kiss. I clutch his shoulders when Solas seems content to merely ravish my mouth, demanding more as I hop to wrap my thighs around his waist and Solas' hands instantly move to cup my ass. Desperately I roll my hips to the dance of our tongues, showing him what I wanted.

His fingers clench as he slides me over his thick cock and rocks his hips to press against slick folds. On fire, I tighten my thighs and dig my heels into his beefy ass to ride Solas' hard length. The motion tearing a moan from me as I grind down, trying to work him inside. He inhales deeply with a groan at the frantic aggression and strengthens his hold as he takes hurried strides to a table. An arm hooks under my thigh and the other grips my shoulder when he sets me down, careful to lean his weight on a forearm. Solas rolls his hips, rubbing the blunt crown of his cock over my clit before drawing back and positioning himself at my entrance. I raise eagerly to push the broad tip farther, breaching my channel with a moan. Whatever control he held snaps. With a growl his hips surge forward, driving to fully sheathe himself within my heat.

Solas rips his mouth away as I gasp at being filled so abruptly, experiencing slight discomfort from his size.

 _"Dalasis. Ir dalasis."_ Eyes squeezed shut and a frown creasing his brow, an expression boarding on pain flits over Solas' face as he fights to remain still. His jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle flutters.

The sting quickly gives way to desire as I become accustomed to his girth, impatient to feel him moving inside me. His eyes open to gaze down at me when I maneuver my hands to seize his ass. Passion darkened his eyes to the most breathtaking color I had ever seen and only serves to heighten the lust beating a desperate cadence within my soul. My fingers clench over muscled flesh, urging him on as I attempt to elevate my hips, his grip and weight pinning me to the point I only succeeded in frustrating myself further.

"Solas...please..."

He draws out the barest fraction and slides back in. Working his hips in shallow, measured thrusts. The delicious drag and pull of his cock as he stretched me feels so intense, I knew I wouldn't last long. Spreading my thighs wider to give Solas deeper penetration, I buck under him, wanting more. He withdraws a little further and sinks back in, making me take more of him. Rotating his hips to gradually drive more of his incredibly hard length inside, he lowers to kiss my lips, mimicking the tempo of his hips as he twines his tongue with mine.

Impatient, I pull back to nip the plump bottom, "harder," and squeeze his ass alongside the demand.

Eyes narrowing, he withdraws almost completely. The moan of denial at his abandonment turns to a cry of bliss as Solas' hips drive forward. My hands move to his back as I fall to the table, unable to do more but feel the body moving above me. Solas trails kisses along my neck as he buries himself inside me. Pumping his hips faster and shoving his cock deeper with each thrust, pausing only briefly to rock and grind against my clit. My moans and cries grow louder as he drives in and out at a relentless pace. His breathes becoming ragged as he pounds his thick shaft into my quivering heat.

The pull of his cock and merciless tempo is too much, I cry out as I come apart in a brutal wave of ecstasy. My walls flutter and clamp down to squeeze Solas' demanding shaft as his continued hammering draws out the pleasure almost to the brink of exquisite torture. Solas buries his face in my neck as he thrusts one last time, groaning as the heat of his come shoots inside me. Allowing me to feel each jet of his release as his hips slow to short, sharp jerks. He rests his head next to mine, breathing harsh and heart pounding furiously against my chest. Pinning me with his weight but not crushing as he lays over me.

I drowsily smile like a loon in triumph; incredibly happy and tired all at the same time.

Letting my leg fall, Solas lifts enough to gaze down at my face. Love and contentment in his eyes as he tenderly caresses my cheek. "Bathe with me?"

Hummed agreement and a smile the only response I can muster, too delightfully exhausted to do more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Dalasis. Ir dalasis: (Elven) Loosely; Small/tight. Very narrow/confined/small/tight.


	42. Chapter 42

Soft, full lips press lovingly in a slow glide and pull. Moving languidly and demanding nothing, only giving.

I sigh happily, unable to help the clawing desire that builds just from the mere brush of his mouth. Hips rise to seat the thick length still locked inside deeper as fingers clench to bring him closer. His lips part in a smug smile as mine press with more urgency, seeking firmer contact.

With a last kiss, Solas pulls away. An expression of reluctance on his face as he withdraws from the welcoming heat clamped around him, my body protesting the loss and loathe to relinquish him as much as I was. Sluggishly I sit up, feeling the warmth of his release trail down my inner thighs and enjoying the view of Solas removing his leggings. Straightening, Solas extends a hand in offering. Wearing an expression of open affection as he guides us to the waiting bath and coaxes me to settle happily on his lap. His face holds a level of softness and tenderness I had never seen before as hands gently wipe sand and blood away. His motions appearing almost adoring.

Water filled bubbles rise to delicately rinse my hair while strong fingers comb and massage with expert finesse. His touch sure and causing my eyes to drift shut in weary bliss. My palms idly run over his chest and shoulders, loving the feel of his skin and the faint dusting of freckles there.

Smiling drowsily, I lean forward to press my lips to Solas' chin. Trailing kisses along his jaw and down his throat while lazily grinding over the hot flesh straining beneath me. Eagerly, I slide upwards to rock against his wide tip and position him at my warm entrance, hips languidly move to work him inside as I kiss the tender juncture of his neck. Barely registering Solas' choked groan through the dreamy fog as my teeth lightly bite down when I lower onto the hard length.

I release my grip when he's fully seated, kissing the tiny indentions the bite has left. Sighing contentedly, my arms slip to rest around his neck as I snuggle close. Body relaxing into his comforting hold, I finally succumb to unwelcome slumber.

At the sudden deadweight, Solas turns his head to look down at me and blinks in stunned silence for a moment. Wrapping me in a tight hug, he takes a deep breath in an effort to calm before pressing a quick kiss to my shoulder. Gingerly Solas shifts and carefully stands with me securely in his arms. Somehow managing to do it without dropping his burden or stumbling.

Stepping from the basin, he scans the room in search of something to utilize as a towel. Seeing nothing, Solas strides to a free settee and gently deposits me on the plush cushion.

Groggily coming awake at the change in surface, I catch Solas' hand as he pivots to move away. "lay down."

Turning back to me, "you're soaked. I will only be gone a moment."

Not particularly caring about being dry, "it's fine. come. please." Giving him a feeble tug.

Reluctantly Solas drops to a knee and stretches out to lie beside me. Adjusting to lay comfortably before reaching to drag my body into a damp embrace. Requiring no prompting, I readily go. Directing him to recline flat with a hand against his sternum so I can climb on top. I nuzzle his neck as I settle on Solas' chest, hooking my arms under his to hold his shoulders. A warm breeze caresses my skin as Solas' fingers soothingly trace down my spine and lower back. The lulling touch quickly hurling me back into restful unconsciousness.

Feeling like my eyes had only just closed, I'm awoken by a knock on the door and Solas delicately extracting himself from beneath me. I sleepily mutter in protest as he wiggles away and moves to dress. My head drowsily turning to watch Solas pull on his leggings and walk to the door.

Light from the corridor filters inside as he blocks the view of our visitor with his body. Exchanging indistinguishable hushed words. Leaning forward, Solas takes something from our mystery caller before nodding and quietly shutting the door. Placing the saddle bag by the couch, he sinks back down and draws me into the cradle of his arms. Having his presence surrounding me again, I freely descend into the oblivion of sleep. 

~ 

I float in murky nothingness as something nudges and prods incessantly at my consciousness. Determinedly directing me to the surface of wakefulness. The sensation of hot skin draped around me and pressed against my naked back has my eyes snapping open, completely on full alert.

_Solas. Naked. Naked-Solas._

Knowing instantly who it was by the heady awareness coursing through me and electrifying tingle his touch never fails to always bring.

 _Wait. No. Mostly naked Solas._ Feeling the graze of smooth fabric against the curve of my ass. _I have a mostly naked Solas behind me...SCORE!_

Extremely giddy, I tentatively shift to put myself more firmly against him- or at least as flush as I could considering the arm hooked under me to cup a breast and other limply resting over my waist. Aiming not to wake him in case he decided to escape.

When I do, I notice my body felt...stretched. Eyes widening, I barely stop my mouth from dropping open and gaping like a fish.

_I had sex._ **_We_ ** _had sex...I slept with Solas...I finally banged Solas and I can't even remember it...I missed it! I fucking missed it! NUTSAACCKKK!!!!_

Wanting nothing more than to shake my fists at the Heavens and yell 'WHHYY?!'

_Hey. Your missing something pretty crucial here woman...You had sex with Solas. You were somehow able to get into that man's gloriously skin-tight pants._

_........_

_VICTORY!!_

Fighting the urge to vigorously fist-pump the air at the stupendous information.                                       

_I don't know how I accomplished it, but fuck yeah!_

Maybe I became some kind of seduction savant when completely out my gourd. Whatever it was, I needed to figure out how to replicate it. That shit was serious gold.

Reasonable certain Solas wasn't going anywhere and now armed with the knowledge I had at least succeeded once already, I move with bolder purpose. Rocking back to push against the bulge at my back. Realizing he wasn't where I wanted, I shift to position myself higher in an effort to nestle his growing thickness between my cheeks before rubbing with more insistence.

There's a sleepy inhale as Solas buries his face in my hair and leisurely grinds in response, the hard press of his erection leaving no doubts as to his readiness. I reach back to hook my thumb in the waistband of his leggings. Eagerly tugging them down just enough with the help of Solas to free the straining flesh.

I draw away, creating space to angle him down and position the thick shaft between my thighs before pushing back. My fingers move to hold his tip as I ride the top of his cock, tracing the slit to spread the bead of moisture gathered there. Hot breath caressed my skin as Solas nuzzles the hair from my throat. Grazing his teeth along the sensitive column as long fingers knead my breast. Pinching and rolling the taut peak in a way that sent spears of pleasure straight to my clit. The slick slide over his length turns almost frantic at the onslaught as the need to have him inside me becomes near desperate.

I throw my leg behind his, undulating against him to bring him where I wanted, rotating my hips to push the broad tip inside and growling in frustration as he slips over my wet seam.

"Impatient, _vhenan_?" His mouth curves into a grin against my skin before he grips my thigh to spread me wider, never pausing in his teasing assault along my neck.

A moan becomes my response as he shifts to align himself, driving into my heat in one long, measured thrust. Unhesitatingly forcing my tight channel to take every inch of him, wringing a gasp from me as he grinds his hips to fully sheathe himself. His hand leaves my thigh to focus in on my clit. Rubbing in slow, torturous circles as he gently rocks to the pace of his finger. His cock withdrawing in even, shallow strokes that string me taut as a bow with the need to come.

I grab his ass, urging him to move harder, and shove back to bury him deeper. Teeth nip in reprimand as ethereal hands firmly clasp my waist, holding me immobile as Solas continues to slowly fuck me.

"Solas. Don't tease." Wanting to hiss at being so frustratingly close.

His finger applies more pressure, strumming my clit mercilessly as he sedately pumps his hips. My grip tightens on his muscled flesh as I wiggle against the pinning hold, trying to push him deeper. _Needing_ a rougher taking. With an electrifying jolt, Solas taps the bundle of nerves, sending me over the edge with a shocked cry. He maintains his punishing play of my clit while my walls grasp and squeeze his thick cock, drawing out the pleasure. His hips drive forward in short, quick thrusts; fighting against the tight hold before he comes with a sharp marrying of our bodies, the feel and force of his release unexpectedly wringing another orgasm from me.

Solas' magic dissipates as his hips still and full lips place warm kisses on my throat. I stretch back, turning to gaze at him. The striking grey of his eyes and sizzling intensity with which he looked at me reignite the desire that had barely been doused. His continued erection only served to add kindling to the flames as I reach up to cradle the back of his head and bring him down for a ravenous kiss as I ground my hips before pulling away to ride him.

"Solas, give me what I want." Capturing his mouth again in a fervent press and slide of the plush softness as my tongue delves to taste and twine in a passionate dance of wills.

Gasping against his lips when he withdraws to enter me with a hard thrust.

He rolls us to our backs with a hand on my thigh, grasping the other to force them wider apart as his magic flares to completely tug his leggings away. The bending of knees and bracing of feet are the only warning I receive before the fingers on my thighs clench and I'm lost in a sea of mindless pleasure.

He draws back to the point of nearly pulling out before sharply bucking upward. Prying a moan of bliss from me at his thick length slamming into my heat. Unable to do more than throw my head against his shoulder as he thrusts up ruthlessly; using the cushion beneath us as leverage to support his back. A ghostly tendril of magic presses against my clit, stroking in firm circles. Solas' driving cock hits every delicious nerve ending, fucking me faster while wood cracks. The sound nearly drowning my cries as I come with embarrassing quickness.

His magic continues its relentless strumming, flicking tingling energy while he pounded against me harder. My cries become almost sobs as another orgasm rips through me in a vicious wave. Solas' hold tightens as I squirm to get away from the overwhelming sensations his rapid hammering causes; far too sensitive to handle anything more.

The bucking of his hips becomes brutal as he shoves into my quivering channel twice more. Thrusting with a final hard drive of his cock as he grinds into me, shooting hot jets of his release deep inside. The jerk of Solas' penis with each burst tears a moaned cry as I come again, making me fear I might pass out from how strong it was when spots dance across my vision.         

His legs slowly straighten and the grip on my thighs relaxes as our ragged breathing echoes. In utter deadweight I lay over Solas, body completely boneless and limp from the intense bout of sex.

_Guess that's what it feels like to get fucked by someone who's been celibate for millennia._

A giant self-satisfied smile surfaces and a giggle escapes as I bask in the heady afterglow.

Solas' fingers lazily caress my skin in contentment as his harsh pants begin to calm and the thunderous pound of his heart lessens. I tilt my face to look at him, wanting to see his expression and end up meeting devastatingly beautiful eyes. The grays and blues mixing so darkly it was impossible to determine their color. Flecks of violet live in their striking depths, a fact only noticeable due to my close proximity.

_So pretty._

Having to remind myself that air was required for breathing when I realize I was holding it.

A soft smile plays on his lips as he looks at me with an expression of quiet peace and happiness the likes of which I had never seen cross his face. Its appearance a knife to the heart as I struggled against the urge to cry at the sight. Knowing that for this short moment- the guilt, the sorrow, the overwhelming burdens he carried; were all forgotten. It was a glimpse of what he used to be or perhaps, could have been without the remorse of a destroyed civilization.

Wishing I could take all of it from him as I tenderly run the back of my fingers over his jaw.

 _"Ar lath ma, vhenan._ " His gentle tone and warm gaze conveying such love that it was humbling.

The words bring an instant, uncontrollable smile even as sadness held me. His voice and their meaning filling me with a sense of incredible joy. I open my mouth to speak just as a deafening crash of furniture snapping and toppling startles me.

My head turns up, staring in stunned silence as the sound of wood rolling to a slow halt accusingly drifts over us.

"So...probably safe to assume I did that?" I offer. Taking in the sight of deep gouges in some of the tables and chairs while others looked totally obliterated.

Tilting his head to study the wreckage, "a minor tremor in control." _That's minor?_ "Apologies, I resorted to leashing your magic."

The sensation of a wispy film being lifted washes through me with his words. I blink stupidly, having not even perceived anything had been done in the first place.

"It's fine, I don't care." Smiling merrily. He could tell me Corypheus planned to do a strip-tease and it would meet with the same dreamy, carefree attitude at this point. "Though I don't think it worked too well." Looking over the ruined furniture again.

A slight blush crosses Solas' cheeks, "there was...a lapse in concentration."

"Lapse in concentration?" I teasingly ask, detesting having to separate us in order to shift onto my stomach.

He rests his hands on the outside of my legs, giving a playful hum in response as I settle over him. Feeling pride at his total ease and relaxed air, experiencing an emotion suspiciously like adoration while gazing at the openness on his face. Lifting up, he languidly glides his lips along mine in a lingering caress. Unhurried and satisfied to simply brush in an act of indulgence.

I lean back with a moony grin, leisurely trailing my palms down his chest as I sit up.

_Mercy..._

Letting my hands run appreciatively over the hard muscles flexing beneath my exploring fingertips. Wondering how on earth he accomplished it but grateful to whatever routine he did to shape such perfection.

I slide up his body, cradling his jaw between my hands as I bend to capture his mouth, wanting him again. Solas returns the ardent kiss, fisting his hand in my hair and angling my mouth for firmer contact.

Pulling away with a soft chuckle when I move against him with purpose, "I am not a tool, Akira _._ I will need longer than that." Chuckling smugly when I collapse on him with a disappointed huff.

I rest my head beside his, absently tracing his ear as Solas' eyes drift shut in tired coziness. The tips of his fingers lightly graze down my spine, moving their idle wandering back up upon reaching the curve of my ass in a relaxed journey.

I watch as my gentle touch lulls him into a drowsy stupor. Following the sweep of his brows and bow of sinfully perfect lips. Adoringly memorizing each line and plane of his features. Studying the face angled towards me with love.

I twitch in stunned disbelief, my stroking caress halting.

_Love? No. No, that's not possible. I like him-I like him_ **_a lot_ ** _-but he's not real. I can't love him. That's right, it's just affection. Nothing more. Nothing so silly as love. I wouldn't be stupid enough to fall for him...Right?_

Mentally smacking the denial from my expression as Solas opens his eyes to look at me.

"Something is troubling you." Rubbing small circles over my shoulder comfortingly.

"No." I deny and resume my lazy petting of him, not wishing to give him the impression he had done something wrong.

His lids lower as he gazes at me softly, "You have expressive eyes _, my heart._ You may have learned to master your expression but not your eyes. They betray you with their honesty."

I snort with a self-deprecating smirk, "They're brown. Brown's not much better than mud at conveying anything."

Raising an eyebrow, "not quite...and that isn't an answer."

A giggle pops out before I can stop it. The irony that the God of Non-answers was commenting on my lack of feedback too hilarious to keep in.

"I was wondering about Cassandra and whether I should stuff myself in a crate to hide for awhile." Technically true. I _had_ been worrying about her level of anger on the way to Griffon Keep.

"Her ire is well earned."

"Mm..." Propping my head in my hand at the displeased tone. "Debating if you'd rather scold me or toss me over the battlements?" Smiling as I faintly skim down his jaw with my nails.

"There are more fitting alternatives. Especially for one who purposely seeks to sow chaos." Solas states with a wry twist of his lips.

"What? Me?" I declare in mock shock. "Never. Sounds nothing like me."

"Ah. Of course." He concedes before his expression completely closes off and he looks at me with cold indifference.

_Oh my..._

Blinking like an idiot and mentally fanning myself. At a loss and utterly confused as to why Solas had done a one-eighty but too insanely turned on to rationally question it.

I reflexively tighten my thighs against his hips, pulse speeding up to a frantic beat as my gaze focuses on his mouth. Pondering how a kiss would be received in his current mood and trying to think logically while my body practically melted under his detached scrutiny.

"You appear distracted." His icy tone sending shivers racing through me.

"No." Clearing my throat at the husky quality the word carries.

A brow lifts in challenge at the obvious lie. "I see your desire. Do you believe I will welcome your advances?"

Voice wistful as I look at the sexy seriousness directed at me, "I hope so..." At the dreamy expression on my face, Solas' lips twitch and his eyes brighten. "That's dirty!" Seeing the suppressed amusement.

Not caring how he had found my weakness as he fists my hair with a chuckle and drags me forward for a demanding kiss. My mind shutting off completely as Solas moves to take me again. 

~ 

I snuggle against Solas' side, legs tangled with his as he yawns and scrubs an exhausted hand over his face. He strokes my arm and gives it a gentle squeeze before extracting himself from my hold. I crack an eye open, sleepily observing him as he stands and stretches.

_Best morning view ever._

Groggily sitting up to half-lay with a loopy smile. Unabashedly ogling his beefy ass and muscular thighs while he dressed. Solas glances over his tunic before balling it in his hands and returns to stand in front of me clad in his under-armor.

"I must go, I promised my services this morning." Eyes soft as he lightly trails the back of his hand across my cheek.

Solas bends down, leaning a hand on the cushion to support himself as he gives me a kiss in farewell. I release a happy sigh as our lips meet, draping my arms over his shoulders. When he moves to draw away, I follow in order to tug him to lay on me as I fall back.

He meets each firm press and pull of my lips, pushing me into the settee for a moment before he seems to catch himself. Tearing his mouth from mine, he shakes his head in wry humor at me.

Undeterred, I rise to kiss his throat above the collar of his armor.

"Behave, _vhenan_." He playfully orders.

In regret I stop my assault. Blowing hard against his neck to create a loud raspberry sound at being made to relinquish his company. Smirking, he pulls away with a quick peck. Leaving me to flop back down in tired disappointment as he exits the storeroom to perform whatever duty he promised.

Bushed and not in any particular hurry to do anything, I roll over to go back to sleep. My mind clocking out within seconds of relaxing and becoming dead to the world. If someone wanted something from me or from this room; well, they were in for a show.


	43. Chapter 43

Yawning widely, I roll to my back with a long, indolent stretch. Smiling broadly at the ceiling when delicious soreness makes itself known from the motion.

_Boy, that man does not come to play!_

With a content sigh I shuffle to stand on fatigued legs, feeling incredibly tired still and reasonably certain I wasn't going to be walking straight anytime soon. If I was exhausted, I wondered how Solas was fairing. He had awoken before me and had definitely gotten very little rest. As I had turned to him throughout the night or he had roused me from sleep with a sizzling touch.  

Not at all sure what time it was or how long I had been out for, I scan over the floor for my clothes. I spot a saddlebag propped against the settee but ignore it for the scattered apparel.

"...nrhm..." Biting my lip in indecision as I gingerly pinch the blood streaked bra.  

Dropping the halter, I swivel to rummage in the pack. Crossing my fingers that there were clothes inside to avoid dressing in blight covered gear.

"Sweet...." Eyes widening in happy surprise when I open the flap and incredibly thankful to the person who had managed to locate my bag.

I eye the broken furniture with devilish satisfaction as I dress, quite proud of the extra damage that had accumulated during the evening.

 _I believe I have found a new mission: Break the Elf's concentration._ Cackling in evil glee and wanting to steeple my fingers.

Gathering the discarded clothes and tossing them on my bag for cleaning later, I tug on my boots and move to the door, combing a hand through my hair as I do. Knowing the short locks were a lost cause but wanting to make an effort anyway. How Solas was able to look at the wild disaster and still find it attractive was anyone's guess.

Chuckling at my lack of sex appeal, I throw the door open and step out into the empty hall.

The moment my boot lands, light flares beneath me. My body instantly stiffens in an 'oh shit' movement at its emergence, bracing for a magical impact. With dazzling sparkles, the ward dissolves like a vapory mist underneath my feet. Blinking in spooked incredulity, I expel a huge gust of air in relief at its evaporation.

_Seriously gotta talk to him about warning me about those things._

It was cute Solas had placed a ward for me, but damn if one of these days I wasn't going to poop myself. Taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart, I snort with mirth at the mental image of Solas seeing his _'vhenan'_ crap herself from one of his spells.

A sense of invincibility fills me at the reminder of my new title. Finally realizing the enormity of my  accomplishment of being stubbornly dogged enough in my pursuit to make Solas give in to his selfishness- a feat of miraculous proportions in and of itself. The knowledge that I could freely touch him and seek his company without needing an excuse was a powerful feeling to experience. Excitement, jubilation, anticipation, wild joy, restlessness; so many emotions running amuck all at once at the insight.              

"HAHAHA! WINNING!!" I shout and vigorously punch the air. "WOOO! YEAH, BITCH!" Stopping to raise my fists above my head and hop in triumph.

Grinning like a lunatic, I give a _'sup_ toss of my chin to the gaping scout who had come to investigate the crazy ravings. He collects himself quickly, snapping his mouth shut and reverently kneels in my path to block me.

"Your Worship, word from Mistress Harding has arrived. The Lady Seeker has requested everyone gather in the assembly hall." Never once lifting his eyes from the ground to look at my face.

"No problem!" In too good a mood to care about the creepy veneration directed at me.

Face practically splitting from the maniacal smile, I stride with bouncy footfalls for the hall. Its presence remaining even as I enter to the companions already grouped around the massive central table.

Turning to smirk fiendishly at my approach, "Walking a little bow legged, Boss. Rough night?"

"hehe..yeah..." I gleefully answer Bull as Solas pointedly keeps his gaze on the maps spread out on the table.

"Walked the West Wing last night. And I heard loud crashing that appeared to be coming from the storeroom. Sounded suspiciously like wood being broken if you ask me...Wouldn't happen to know anything about that?" Dorian innocently asks.

"Maybe..." Imitating his mock naivety. "Though I'm surprised you were able to hear any noise. You know since there's always so much struggling and fires burning...little knock-knock, bump-bump...or is it more of a 'Wham!'?"

Face flushing and looking mortified, "please, don't describe it with sounds!"   

Swinging her legs from her perch on the wood's edge, "the Elf always chooses the Elf. _Boring_.-" deepening her voice and furrowing her brow in intense seriousness, "-'Finger the balls, stroke the shaft, _vhenan_. For the good of the Empire! _Pwoar!_ '"

Solas' lips pinch in disproval at Sera while I died laughing against the table. "Think what you will, Sera. Your sentiments on the matter are not my concern."

"And I thought for sure you would dislocate a hip or something..." Hawke muses with a look of deep contemplation on his face at Solas. "Good to know that when I'm old and shooting dust, that it's still possible to get in there and get the job done. Truly inspirational...."

Tilting his head to the side in calm consideration, "how are you feeling, Champion? Have you sought the healer this morning?"

"Huh? Why?" Clearly confused and not expecting that to be the result to his taunt.

"While the side effects of most curatives are benign, there are instances of lasting repercussions from consuming strong doses."

"Wait, what?!" A look of dawning horror surfacing on his face.

"Impotence is a common reaction among men."

Narrowing his eyes at Solas' detached air, "alright, now I know your fucking with me. That's cold, my man. That's real cold."

Raising an eyebrow in cool question, "I merely stated an observation, Champion."

"Ca-can't...b-breathe....AHAHAHA!" I gasp from my knelt position on the floor. Gripping the edge of the table to keep me upright as the tears ran down my cheeks from laughing so hard.

"I'm afraid news from Harding will ruin your humor, Inquisitor." Cassandra states from the large archway. In confident strides she enters the hall to joins us with Charter in tow. "A message from Skyhold has also just arrived. You will need to decide how best to proceed." Handing me the two missives.

Standing, I wipe the tears from my face with the back of my hand, not bothering to try to read the letters. "What have we got?"

"Maker willing, and with a bit of luck, troops from Skyhold should arrive in a little over two weeks. Leliana has notified nearby agents to assist us in harassing the Wardens. Most of them may already be in position as we speak. As for reports coming from the Wastes; Venatori and Red Templars have been sighted digging through abandoned dwarven ruins and transporting captives to be used as slaves. For what purpose is still uncertain. Regardless, this is not an issue we can ignore, Inquisitor."

_Well, poop...Whoop! Whoop! Here comes the Thedas police...._

Making a raspberry sound in defeat before looking at Cassandra, "so two weeks to handle the crapshoot in Hissing Wastes, huh?" Working my lips in contemplation for a second as I mull over our options. "Doing as much damage to the Grey Wardens' morale and supplies is too important to half-ass. We split in two groups. One to aid the scouts and the other gets to go play in a giant sandbox with the angry kids no one wants their children near." Lifting an eyebrow at Cassandra, "let me guess, rifts have been spotted in the Wastes?" Blowing a crestfallen sigh when she nods, "So I don't get the fun job then. Cassandra; you get Cole, Varric, and Vivienne to help mess with the wagons. The rest of us are on douche-bag wrangling duty. What about you, Hawke? Coming with?" I ask hopefully.

"Ho-oh! Nope. I prefer to do something _not_ utterly shitty like playing hero. I'll stay with your lovely Seeker." Winking at Cassandra and wiggling his brows when she gives him a disgusted noise in response.

Charter steps forward to interject just as another scout scurries into the hall to bring a message to Cassandra. 

"Inquisitor. There was some concern about the number of Darkspawn in the area. With the attack last night, it seems there is in fact an increase in activity. I had men investigating since we arrived and they have returned. If you could get rid of, or perhaps stem where they are coming from, it would greatly improve our freedom to move at night."

"Did your guys find where they're coming from?"

"Yes, your Worship. Ruins to the east, a Tevinter prison. Unfortunately the only way inside is a forgotten trial. It's gates are sealed shut from the inside and too sheer to scale; that path is the single viable alternative."

Cassandra is silent during the exchange, completely focused on the missive in her hands. I raise a brow at the growing tightness and anger suffusing her face but wait for her to share when she was ready.

"Show me?" Gesturing to the maps scattered over the table.

Moving to stand beside me, Charter points to a section of mountains and ridges not too far from Griffon Keep. Signifying where the prison was in relation to us before she outlines a route with her finger that would give us access to the ruins.

Studying the map for a moment and considering how we were supposed to leave the Western Approach for the Hissing Wastes, I nod my head resolutely.

"We can do it. If we take this course out of the Approach-" Tracing the proposed path with a finger, "-we can sweep by to handle the Darkspawn problem without adding too much time. It doesn't really take us out of the way and as limited as it is, provides some cover from the sun."

"I will send three of my best with you, Inquisitor. When do you want them ready?"

"Considering the time constraint; the morning." I regretfully respond.

"Waiting for morning will put us in open desert at peak daylight. Better to depart in the evening, Boss. Less risk of being caught with our pants down out there."

My shoulders droop in aversion, recognizing Bull would know better than me but still not happy about having to leave so soon.

"Tonight, Charter." I rectify, not able to conceal the slight bitterness tingeing my voice or expression.

"...bandits..." Cassandra mumbles from behind us.

I twist around to look at her in bewilderment, wondering what she was getting at. Face livid and eye beginning to twitch, she raises her gaze from the message she held.

"...The Thunder Plunderers..." A noise suspiciously like a terrified squeak comes from Hawke's vicinity as I tense in epic butt-clenching fashion, "Booty Pincers...Why is there a report of you two waylaying wagons? Alone?" Voice deadly calm as she glares bloody-murder at the both of us and ignores the hoots and snickers our gang names cause from the others.

"Now, that's just silly...that could be anyone..."

"Too true! There's bandits all over the place--like cockroaches!"

"Oh, really, Fast Fingers Despoiler, Mad Man Ransacker?" Lifting a brow in mock incredulity, "I suppose another small redheaded Elf traveling with a human mage made every Warden march naked to Adamant Fortress?" The mirth becoming near riotous at our aliases and Warden punishment.  

"Well...when you put it like that, it just sounds ridiculous..."

"I'm sure there's plenty of people who match that description..."

Expression turning thunderous at our flippant banter, "you went out of your way to do something dangerous and were injured! Not to mention the both of you would be dead-shot in the back!-if not for the scouts who decided to show mercy! The both of you just...just... _ARGH_!" Tossing her arms in the air in exasperation, too furious to continue.

"I don't think it was that bad. She was able to wa-- _mmphh..._ " Quickly vaulting to clamp a hand over Hawke's blabbering mouth.

"Say that again?" Cassandra practically growls.

Twin looks of vexation lock on me from Cassandra and Solas as the rest of the companions discreetly sidle out of the room. Realizing that a long-winded verbal spanking was imminent.

"Now, it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"I didn't mean-"

Cutting us off with an angry hiss, "I don't want to hear it! I should whip the both of you! Not so bad? -" We wince as Cassandra lays into us. Venting her wrath and raising her voice to nearly a shout as she recounts the details of our little adventure. Wisely keeping our mouths shut and waiting for it end while Solas simply crossed his arms. Seemingly content to let Cassandra point out our 'rampant stupidity' and 'ludicrous frivolity'.  

"-Do you have anything to say for yourselves?" Hands on her hips and huffing from her spent rage.

"...no?..." We both hesitantly reply, hoping it was the correct response and wouldn't set her off again.

Cassandra opens her mouth to speak but closes it with a harried shake of her head before spinning on her heel to exit the hall. At the sight of her departing figure, Hawke and I share a heartfelt sigh of relief, thankful it was finally over.

Giving me a _we made it_ expression, Hawke offers a fist bump then takes his own leave. Solas leans a hip on the table as I move to stand with him.

"Not going to add to that?" I teasingly ask, knowing he would have his own opinion on the subject.

"Cassandra was quite thorough. Anything else would be unnecessary censure. That said, your tactics were crude but well executed." Solas complements with a hint of pride in his tone.

"So your saying I have a calling in banditry?" Slipping my arms around his waist and resting my chin on his sternum.

Uncrossing his arms to lightly hold me, "perhaps something requiring a less...subtle touch." He supplies, lips quirking in a faint smirk.

Grinning up at his amused face, "I can be subtle."

"I look forward to the day."

Laughing, I hug Solas tighter and rub my cheek happily against his chest. Savoring having him in my arms and at ease. His presence bringing such joy and bliss that it was frightening. My heart squeezes painfully and I swallow in mild panic at the strength of my response to him.

_A weakness. Solas is my weakness. He has such power over me...Dangerous. This man is dangerous. He is making me forget what I should be doing. What I should be focusing on. There is no guarantee I can change his mind or that he will let me go with him....Ignorant. I'm so ignorant. An ignorant, blind fool._

I lift my face to gaze at the beautiful one above me. Quiet contentment and lingering humor on his face as he tenderly tucks my hair behind my ear.

_Don't love him. Don't fall for him. You will destroy yourself if you do. Solas is not real, your forgetting this important fact. What you feel for him won't be reciprocated, he's a story character. He might only want you now because you're the Inquisitor. You're not Lavellan, that's the person he actually cares for. Actually has a future with. Never forget this. Never forget what will happen soon unless you change things. You are not Lavellan, not the Inquisitor. You. Are. Akira! Survive and live! Make this world your bitch!_

"Your eyes are betraying you again, _vhenan_." He says softly, bringing both hands to smooth back my hair before cradling my face.

Expression crumbling in remorse, "I want to stay with you." unable to help voicing the one wish I stupidly wanted with every fiber of my being.

"Was I not assigned to the Venatori party?" Frowning at my odd response. "Or is it you desire my company now?"

"Yes." I say simply, resting on his chest again.

I feel his bewilderment as he holds me, puzzling the real meaning behind my words. Solas had been satisfied with probing questions here and there, their frequency becoming less often as he spent more time with me. It was unclear how much- or little, he had been able to gleam and put together. He never betrayed his thoughts or feelings on the subject of my weirdness. Solas merely took me as I was and let me be what I wanted.

As he did now by not pressing even though I knew he could tell there was more then what I was saying. Instead Solas gave me the comfort of his touch and his body. Allowing me to take what I needed without complaint.

_...he's not for you..._

Rubbing my cheek on him one last time, I keep my face downcast against his chest and resolutely focus what I should be doing.

"I wonder if all the Darkspawn activity is linked to the Warden's gathering and being under Corypheus' control..."

"Our search of the prison may provide an answer."

_Utter non-answer._

"If Corypheus' control can be broken, maybe the Blight can be too." Sounding as if I was musing out loud.

"A treacherous premise to test."

 _...ughh..._ Rolling my eyes.

"Maybe. But if there was a source, like how Corypheus is to the Wardens, then theoretically it would work right?" Lifting up to look at him now.

"Assuming there is a source or that it could be reached, there is never a guarantee when dealing with strong power such as the Blight."

_Ppbbfftt...._

Face cracking into a smile at his diversion, I move my hands to fondle his ass. "Solas?"

 _"Vhenan?"_ He mimics with a raised brow.

"You're cute when you're grim." Lifting on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his lips.

He bends to meet me, tweaking them apart and unhesitatingly delves to caress his tongue to mine. Pulling and pressing my lips with hungry strokes that were devastating. Coming up for air and feeling like I was set ablaze, I step back and hook a finger in his belt.

"We have a few hours, how about we put that grim brain of yours to work." Teasingly smiling as I tug him with me.   


	44. Chapter 44

"This...isn't what I meant." Laughing as Solas handed me a stack of Venatori correspondence.

"No? My mistake." He replies with a wolfish twist of his lips.

Shaking my head in humor, I drop the pile on his desk with a _plop_ and grab his arm. Pulling him with me as I retreated to his cot. Trailing admiring palms up his chest before pushing him down with a light shove of his shoulders.

He lands with a creaky bounce as I follow him down, running my hands up his thighs in my quest to reach his mouth as I crawl over his body. Eyes darkened to a stormy gray track my progress, like a hunter patiently waiting for his quarry as lush lips part to eagerly meet mine. Their soft fullness grazing in sizzling contact before I pull away with a teasing smirk.

"My mistake. This isn't what you wanted." Smiling mischievously at his surprised expression and promptly moving down his body to snuggle against him.

Chuckling at having his words thrown back at him, Solas slides up to prop himself into a sitting position. Settling back and seemingly satisfied to merely stay with me draped over him.

"What were you like? Before the anchor-the Conclave?"

 No hidden agenda or clever prodding, just simple curiosity as he quietly reclines against the wall, idly stroking my hair while I rested between his legs. My fingers leisurely pet along the curve of his waist and hip as I ponder the question, feeling content and safe.  

"Not a special snowflake or magical." I snicker in humor before growing serious. "I was mundane and carefree. My days were easy and I lived as I pleased. I was free..." Voice becoming distant with the last, lost to memories of a life I would never see again before I blink and press on. "I don't think I've really changed that much since then." I answer honestly. "I might be a little more dare-devilish now but the adventurousness, the love of all things ridiculous, the mellow attitude; it's what I was before everything and still there. There's just more for me to worry about now..."

"The burdens of command eventually take a toll, but there is much you could accomplish. As the dealing of the Mage rebellion has already shown."

"Maybe, but I have no wish to lead and don't plan on continuing to do so. I've only come this far for the team,-" _you_ "-not for the good of all and some sense of righteous justice."

"I do not understand you, Akira." Tone displaying genuine perplexity at my lack of enthusiasm to wield control, "You have amassed an organization capable of transforming the very political system. Don't you want to fight the injustice, supplant it with something better?"

"I will only fight for myself or someone else; never for an ideal. Plus, even if I had such a desire, with what? It would quickly corrupt once again and the cycle would begin anew."

"I-" hesitating as he considers then sighs in acknowledgement. "Yes. You are right. I'm sorry."

Giggling, I turn my face to plant a kiss on his ribs and pat his hip comfortingly, "you're just not used to people who aren't power hungry. It's okay, you're learning. You'll get there."

"Those with power rarely willingly relinquish it. Your continued indifference never ceases to surprise me." His voice takes on an almost sad, morose quality, "I suppose I have grown accustomed to watching greed consume others."

Grinning and propping my chin on him to look at his face, "I would have to learn to like the creepy fish eyed stares directed at me in order to get greedy."

The description startles a short, chuckle-snort from Solas. "Ah, yes. The stares of awe and fear. A factor I had not considered." Face highly amused as he gazes down at me, "Your expression with each sign of adulation is quite enjoyable to behold."

"That bad, huh?"

"I have seen withered trees look happier." He dryly states. "The others have taken to placing bets on an eventual outburst."

"What'd you bet on?" Smiling at how well everyone had pegged me.

"I did not say that I did."

Lids narrowing as I study him, "you're confident you're going to win." I assert.

Solas simply hums playfully, not denying or admitting his potential involvement in the wager.

With a delighted snort, I hug his waist and cheerfully settle against him again. "What about you? What were you like before everything?" There's barest hint of a pause in his stroking at my query before he catches himself and continues. "Never mind, it's fine." My voice doing a poor job of hiding the hurt his instant suspicion causes.

I expected it and was even unbothered by it when I was actually fishing for information, but damn if being slapped with it when I only wanted to be closer to him wasn't a nasty blow to the ol' lady balls. It was a reminder of the major trust issues he had and it drove home the fact that to an extent, I was on his 'can't trust' list.

"No." His body relaxes and he sighs wearily. "Forgive me, you are undeserving of mistrust. I'll work on it." His fingers halt their petting to cradle my head instead. "I spent as much of my time in the Fade as I could. Searching for remnants of memories long forgotten. Experiencing the joys and sorrows of countless lives through impressions left behind...The thrill of finding dreams lost to time...I would not trade it for anything."

"It sounds wonderful." I say softly.

_Ah, but you would..._

I think mournfully, remembering what is likely to come. I might not know for certain what bringing the Veil down would do to him, but everything pointed it being a huge crapshoot. Cole's cryptic ramblings, Solas' message through Cole, Solas' frustratingly vague statements during Trespasser. It all leaned towards things ending badly for him while the world got to carry on in whatever fashion he left it in.   

It wasn't fair. Was tearing the Veil down really worth it? Would it truly save only ancient beings or would it also save Thedas and the Fade as a whole?  Did they even actually deserve it? So many mysteries without any answers. Regardless of the purpose, I didn't think my mind or heart would accept Solas' death as the price. Real or no, his existence was becoming more important than the welfare of an entire fictional world.

I squeeze him tightly, swallowing past the lump in my throat before I sit up to look at him.

"Give me time, I'll fix everything and you'll be able to wander freely again." I solemnly swear to him.

If I was supposed to be something so great, hell, if magic liked my glowy business so much; I will fucking put it to use. I would survive and live through this shitty timeline and I would make sure he did too. Even if the cost of his life is a world and his hatred, I will happily pay it. I only prayed it wouldn't come down to that.

A furrow mars his brow as he studies me, the penetrating gaze seeing more than I wished. "It is true ripples of Corypheus' influence can be felt even within the Fade. And that duty has provided us with little in the way of rest, however, I do not feel shackled by it."

I affectionately caress his cheek, pretending it had been about Corypheus and the Inquisition. "Good."

A slight frown remains and I slip my hand to his neck. Tugging him close for a kiss to prevent any probing questions. His lips are slow to respond and hesitant before he pulls me to settle over him more firmly, seemingly having come to a decision.

~

"Are you prepared to leave, _vhenan_?" Trailing soft lips languidly down my throat.

"Ye-no." Unable to help the smile that surfaces at the body sagging over me in defeat and the harried sigh against my neck.

With a quick peck to my jaw, Solas unlinks our fingers and separates his body from mine. Giving the side of my ass a playful spank as he draws away. Reluctantly I follow suit, scooting off his cot and moving to dress.

My face splits into a dreamy grin as I watch the play of muscles flexing and stretching with his movements in the shadowed light. Sighing wistfully with shoes in hand, I stroke my knuckles along his hip in farewell before spinning to go locate my pack.

I weave through the halls and down cool stairwells to return to the last place I had seen it. Knocking then stepping inside when silence greets me, I fearfully poke my head in. Hoping I wasn't about to get flashed or treated to a BDSM scene.

A cursory search of the West Wing storeroom turns up empty. Scowling, I march to where I was certain I had left the saddlebag, and sure enough, nothing.

"fuuucckk.... " _Tsking_ and scratching my head in frustration, I whirl around just to be positive it was in fact gone before I stride from the room.

I walk at a clip pace to the room I had taken prior to leaving for Adamant, wanting to at least check there before I went nuclear freak-out mode. When I pass scouts bearing saddles and gear, I hasten my steps. Stunned it was that late already and apparently near time to book it the hell out of here.

Practically sprinting, I burst into my room, heaving a gust of relief when I spot my bag atop the cot. "Holy balls thank you!" Shaking my fists in triumph.

As quickly as I can, I gather the few items I had left behind in my arms and deposit them unceremoniously on the bed. Throwing open the bag, my fingers freeze when I see that the clothes that had previously been bloodied had been cleaned and packed away.

"...uurrghhmm...creepy..." Happy that my gear was clean and everything but still a little weirded out at having an unknown entity mess with my stuff.

Shrugging, I cram my things haphazardly inside the saddlebag. Not bothering to make it tidy since there might not be time for that. It wasn't as if they would leave without me or anything but I didn't want to be the reason everyone had to wait either. Shouldering the heavy weight, I trot to make my way to the courtyard.

Hawke climbs down from the catwalk just as I enter the outer bailey, "In a hurry, your Holy Bosomness? You know they kinda can't leave without you right? It's like the whole 'waiting for the favored whore' thing." Hawke flippantly comments as he steps in my way and takes the bag from my shoulder.

Snorting and trying not laugh as he tosses his free arm across my shoulders companionably, "I believe it's 'waiting for the bride', not the whore."

"Why would you wait for your bride? Dodged a life sentence on that one if she's late. No, going to stick with favored whore."

"Oh my god...who teaches you these things?" I giggle, shaking my head as I cover my face with a hand while we walk.

"My brain does!" He responds merrily. "It's a place of wonder and magic and fluffy animals..."

"Pretty sure anything in that brain of yours is an unholy abomination that should never be." Laughing as we trudge down the stairwell to the courtyard below.

The team was assembling already; saddling horses and strapping supplies to packs when we came down. The companions who were staying- and even Charter, was standing by to offer aid and see us off. Instinctively my eyes seek out Solas, seemingly able to find and zero on him with unnerving speed. He conversed with Varric in relaxed friendship, his back turned to our arrival.

As my mount was nearby, I catch the tail end of their banter.     

"-be sure to watch yourself out there, Chuckles."

"Concerned for me, Master Tethras?"

"You?" Releasing a snort, "Hardly. It's Glow Bait that worries me. She's rash, but even more so where you're involved. Just...don't give her an opening to jump into anything."

 _Wah~! I wasn't that bad! Okay, maybe a little...but still! Plus I didn't go wrecking ball or anything when it came to Solas...at least I didn't think I did?..._ Face scrunching in thought as I considered Varric's words and missing Solas' response.

Plopping my gear down and arm still around me, Hawke maneuvers us to face where Cassandra stands alongside Charter and the three scouts joining us. "Look at that stern, iron beauty. Bet she could snap me like a twig..." He whispers dreamily.

I shipped Varric and Cassandra so hard but as that appeared to be a very sunken boat; I wasn't going to knock a Hawke relationship instead. He was damn cool and I didn't just think that because it was basically like talking to a male version of myself. Hawke was a capable mage who was difficult to kill, could bring her happiness, and was certainly a match for her. All qualities that were a must for a lover good enough for Cassandra.

Leaning my head in to speak low as well and fixing my gaze on Cassandra right along with his, "you interested, my man? What's the hold up?"

"I'm trying! She is bashing my efforts down left and right. I love it! We are going to make such strong, angry babies..."

Choking back a chuckle, "find the prettiest flower you can and a romance novel. Maybe get Varric to whip something up for you. It's all I got buddy." Raising my hands palms up in a helpless gesture.

"Oohh...you're a devious one...Yes, the war isn't over yet!" Hawke whispers while nodding his head determinedly.

A presence moves to stand at our backs. Lifting his head and glancing behind, Hawke's mouth spreads into a fiendish smile. "Why hello there, Sir Apostate. Sad I won't get the pleasure of your eerily hairless company for awhile."

I twist to face Solas, seeing a slight tightness in the press of his lips in an otherwise calmly detached expression.

"A sorrow I'm sure."

"Hawke, stop pestering the elves." Varric's put-upon voice calls from the staircase.

"Uh oh. The wife's mad." Directing his lopsided grin at Varric. "Safe travels my friends."  

"May your Plundering be Thunderous, Fast Fingers Despoiler!" Clapping him on the shoulder blade in goodbye.

"Same to you, Mad Man Ransacker. May you Pinch many Booties!" Briskly rubbing the top of my head in farewell before exaggeratedly skipping over to join Varric and Alistair.  

Chuckling and turning away from the goofy display, I return my attention to Solas who was hoisting my saddlebag to settle over the animal's wide back. "Thank you." Happy by the small gesture. My arm strength might be weak sauce but I would have gotten it up there eventually.

Solas simply inclines his head in acknowledgement. His gaze focused on my shoulders before it shifts to my face. Stepping forward, he lightly combs his fingers through my hair to trail to the back of my skull and skim across my shoulders. The automatic dopey expression at his touch morphs into one of confusion when Solas wordlessly pivots to go back to his mount.   

Blinking and shrugging with a mental _meh_ at the behavior,  I finish strapping my gear down and give the remaining companions dramatic salutes by way of a goodbye before hopping to seat myself in the saddle.  

Wheeling my horse to amble behind the scouts, I take one last look at Griffon Keep and our teammates, disappointed I wouldn't get to enjoy banditry with the rest of them. Feeling more than a little grumpy about the arrangement as I resolutely concentrate on the darkness ahead of us.

~

We had ridden through the night in edgy, butt-clenched silence. Alert for any sign of an ambush or stray creature. Relaxing only a fraction when hues of grey began to cover the dunes. By midmorning the scouts had managed to guide us to a small mountain range and called a halt within the shadow of a sheer stone wall. Its massive structure spanning a natural gap within the ridge, obstructing passage to the valley beyond.  

"We attempted to find a way to get inside and open the gates but the gatehouse lies there,-" she points to a thin tower situated high upon the impenetrable wall. "-I'm afraid the only means to reach the prison is by what appears to be a short drainage path." Tossing her chin to a sandy incline that appeared to snake along the outskirts of the mountain.

"Got it. Ya'll are on guard duty till we can get those gates open then." Encompassing the scouts with a look before I dismount. Glad to finally have a chance to be out of the saddle.

We lead our mounts to a jagged overhang, hoping to provide the animals and scouts with a reprieve from the sun while they waited. It wasn't as though we could lug them around a ruin or carry them over rubble. 

I take a moment to crack and stretch my limbs while weapons are buckled and gear is strapped. Hopping to put some feeling back into numb muscles as I fall into step with Bull and Blackwall. Ours boots sinking and sliding into the sand as we trek up the lane. Its narrow trail quickly leveling out to deposit us into a shallow gully.

The walls were wide enough apart so as not to be claustrophobic and afforded a view of dilapidated ramparts collapsing to join the mountainside above. Brick and stone rise to loom over the ravine as it ends in a cul-de-sac. Forcing us to pause and consider a route up the rocky gradient.

It was steep but not impossible. Grooves, divots, and jutting lips offered footholds and it was not so high that a misstep would end in death. More like some nasty breaks and contusions.

Relieved it wasn't tall enough to make me fearful, I sprint as hard as I can to vault to a prime handhold. Climbing and extending with the dexterity of a monkey to ascend the rise smoothly, using my legs as much as possible to take the strain and push me upwards.

"What's this now?! I thought you hated heights!"

"HAHA! Like watching a beetle scurry up a wall! Glorious!"

Smirking at Sera's and Blackwall's comments without slowing my steady rhythm, "Hey, I'm good with broken bones! It's the elevations that let you feel free-fall before you splatter into a chunky mess that bother me!" I jovially call down to them.

At the top, my fingers clutch the edge, struggling to hoist my body weight up and over. Too short to reach any notches that would give me leverage for my legs.

"You solid enough to lend me a boost?" Twisting my head to glance down at Bull who was right below me.

Without any warning his hand thrusts up and shoves my foot high. Shooting me straight over the rim to hook my elbows. "Thank you!" Scrambling to crawl the rest of way up.

Iron Bull is soon to follow and we both lay out to hang our arms over the edge to help the others. Tugging up the last, beads of sweat run down our brows and six breathes are lightly panting from the exertion.

Weapons slide from their sheathes and staves are brought to palm as we take in the prison outcrop. Two bastions sandwich us between them, their stone being what we had been able to see from the gully below.

Farther ahead a large, round tower appearing mostly intact stands with a partially present curtain wall. Its crumbling structure providing shade and a buffer from the elements to tattered tents erected in its shadow.

Eyeing the angular staircase leading to the tower's rooftop, we cautiously march across the empty space and investigate the tents.

Makeshift benches and poorly constructed stools ring a battered table. Food and tools litter its surface and around the rumpled bedrolls underneath the canvases. Rot and the beginnings of spoil along with the equipment chaotically left behind give the scene a slightly sinister air.   

"Relatively fresh. Couple days maybe? Looks like whoever was here left in a hurry." Bull asserts, scanning the area with a critical eye.

Rolling his shoulders as though preparing for an attack, "Perhaps the Darkspawn are the ones to thank for that." Blackwall suggests.

With no reason to remain, the warriors take lead to the tower roof as the rest of us walk in their wake. Trotting the last few steps, I halt, scrunching my face in distaste as I spot the bane of my existence before us.

"...uuuggghhh..." I irritably grumble.


	45. Chapter 45

"...uuuggghhh..." Grumbling irritably upon seeing a wobbly looking lift in the center of the roof.

In a fugitive effort to find an alternate route, I cast my eyes over the roof, hoping the lift was purely for supplies or other such purpose. And not for the coming and going of whomever had been living up here. The sight of rubble and a portion of the roof caved in over what was once the stairwell down kills that optimism.

I side-step to gingerly lean my head over the edge and peek down the hole. "Oh." Sagging in heartfelt relief. "It's not that deep?" Experiencing only a twinge of nervousness.

"You'll only fall for a moment then _smack!_ Oh, my bones. Snappity-snap-snap." Giggling merrily as she leaps onto the lift, setting it to swinging dangerously and the ropes groaning.

My expression falls and eyes widen at the sight. It's flimsy appearance and movement caused by Sera serving to ratchet up the anxiety. Solas shifts to stand beside me, brushing a faint touch to my hip in silent support.

"As lovely as that sounds, Sera, I prefer not actively seeking to damage this perfection." Stilling the wood somewhat with his magic before he steps to join her on it. "Should be able to fit one more without difficulty." Dorian adds.

Not wanting to overload the lift, Blackwall comes forward to descend with them. Carefully putting his weight on the small platform so as not to jostle the straining ropes. Raising his right hand, Dorian sets the gears in motion with a flick of his wrist.

Instinctively they brace their feet at its lurching start and I can't help the nervous swallow. Knowing we would be next as they disappear into the ruins below. I peer over again, wanting a better look at what to expect now that the lift wasn't in the way.

Its descent disturbs the air. A whiff of strong decay and iron drifts up, instantly causing me to gag and my face to scrunch in disgust as I hastily cover my nose at the foul odor. Coughs and the sounds of grunted revulsion can be heard from the three below as the lift creaks and grinds with its ascent back to us.      

"That does not bode well for what's awaiting us down there, Boss." Bull growls and shakes his head with an audible blow of his nose at the smell.

Even Solas' face creases in abhorrence, the putrid stench bad enough to crack his normally unruffled demeanor. "Best be on our guard. Anything still within is unlikely to be friendly." Lithely moving onto the platform without so much as a twitch in the rope or groan of wood.

I follow, standing close and bracing my feet apart in preparation as Bull does the same. Imitating Dorian, Solas smoothly manipulates the lift to start. Likely purposely dampening its jerky movement for my benefit. Even with the extra care and knowing it was coming, I unintentionally grab him when it begins its descent.

We breathe through our mouths as we're lowered into the belly of the tower, down into a room of debris and broken furniture. The vileness increasing the closer to the ground we get.

Pinching her nose as our trio joins them, "Andraste's sacred arsehole... _bleh.._ air...air..."

I stretch my hood to reach my face, attempting to put some sort of buffer between me and the horrid odor. Continuing to breathe through my covered mouth while I form a Spirit Blade in my free hand. The source of the overpowering smell is nowhere to be seen as together we exit the room with Blackwall and myself taking lead. Positioning Bull and Sera as rear guard while the Mages walked within the relative safety of the center.

Thick double-doors open to an antechamber painted in blood, ramping up the sickening perfume of death. Chairs, tables; anything that could be utilized to create a barricade really, was broken and stacked to block the hallway. Blackened entrails and smears of crimson blanket the sandy tiles and along the walls. As if someone had made a futile last stand before being bodily dragged away.

Hands palm hilts and staves as our strides take us through the grim scene, minds imagining the likely fate of the people here. Thinking better of it, I dispel Spirit Blade, opting for hand-to-hand in the confined space of the corridors. Not wanting to chance potentially injuring a friendly by accident with the large claymore.

The unnatural stillness of the halls adds to the atmosphere of anticipation, fully expecting Darkspawn to pop out at any second as we make our way. Crude blockages begin to crop up sporadically, unadorned at first except for splashes of red. Then with more gruesome care the farther in we go.

Severed forearms line the top of some, like a morbid fringe or crowning piece. The fingers appearing to be reaching even in death. Naked torsos of men and women missing their arms and legs have been skewered on spears. Their bodies impaled straight from groin to screaming mouth. Displayed and hanging as though they were banners. More dangle from the ceiling or are pinned to the walls as grisly decorations. The stench, blood, and brutality only getting worse as we trudge through the gore.    

"How cheery." Dorian mutters.

Cringing at a particularly well aimed spear, "...yikes...gives a whole new meaning to colon cleansing... _woof._ " and shaking my head in a nuh-uh gesture.  

Stepping to avoid body fluid from dripping on him, "looks like the Darkspawn are nesting..." Blackwall informs with disgust.

There's a break in the hall when it separates into a T. Blackwall and I stare down both ends, seeing that they quickly bend as the others file in close. Each route appeared identical and likely offered more in the ways of how to use people as ornaments.

"Guess it doesn't really matter..." Tossing my chin to indicate we should go left.

The mystery is short lived. Turning the corner reveals a steep stairwell, the sound of buzzing clearly drifting up from the dungeon below. Eyes water as I take shallower breathes and swallow, trying my best not to start gagging at the rancid odor practically punching me in the nose when we descend the steps.

Sections of the walls and the ceiling are caved in. Dropping the rooms above and rock from the mountain inside the dank prison. Floor space not covered in stone rubble is instead littered with piles of discarded limbs and corpses that had yet to be mutilated. Seemingly like the Darkspawn had converted the cells into a sort of meat processing area.

Grated trapdoors in the floor above and a slaughter alley leading to a courtyard dimly filter light inside the otherwise gloomy dungeon. Noises similar to wet splashes can be heard coming from farther inside along with the sounds of growling and grinding cracks.

On silent feet we move to investigate, passing murals of rearing snakes faintly visible on portions of the walls not yet collapsed or smeared with blood.

Silhouettes shift and scramble over a colossal form within the grey. Their shapes and actions becoming more distinct as we sidle closer. A collective, disturbed shudder passes through the others at the sight of Darkspawn clamoring over a Giant's butchered corpse. Ripping and hacking its flesh to eat while some appeared to be doing it purely for sport.

Magic whispers through the air as arrows whistle and wetly thunk into exposed throats. Blackwall and Iron Bull move to place themselves as a barrier between us and the Darkspawn. Bracing their legs for potential confrontation in case we fail to bring all of them down before they reach us.

Fire capabilities lackluster at best, I leave the finishing blows to Solas and Dorian. Slinging javelins of energy as strongly as I could quickly muster to lodge into chests and shoulders. Throwing and tripping Darkspawn to crash on their backs while shots of flame were swiftly flung to engulf the downed opponents.

Bodies writhe under the barrage of magic and arrows. The handful of Hurlocks falling and set ablaze before they even have a chance to put up any resistance.

The scent of charred flesh and blood adds to the rankness of the dungeon. I cover my face again, actually going so far as holding my breath as the choking decay in the air seems to burn my nose and throat. The others step forward to study the Giant and messily barricaded tunnel within the prison wall. Leaving me to hang back as I struggled not to vomit.

Propping the heavy axe on his shoulder and turning from a pile of bodies nearby, " _Grrhhm._ Those were Vints by the looks of their clothes. Never a good sign where they're involved."  

Inclining his head and pointing the tip of his blade, "is that a harness?" Indicating a crushed basket peeking out from underneath the massive corpse. "Were the Venatori using a Giant as a beast of burden?"

"An ingenious, if dangerous gambit." Solas asserts, stepping close to an outstretched arm to tap the butt of his staff against it. Veins of color and swirling emblems race over the dead skin at the contact, remaining for a moment before they vanish into nothingness once again. "Fascinating."

"A binding and strengthening enchantment...mixed with a forgetfulness spell? Blinding? Hmm. Interesting."  

"One of you is bad enough!" Frowning at Dorian's and Solas' excitement. " _Ugh_! Leave it to the Vinty asshats to come up with something nutters. Friggin' bunch of crazy."

The Giant's body had collapsed against the thick iron bars of the alley's gate. Mangling the metal and making passage up to the courtyard above impossible. As it eliminated that route and ensured we would need to backtrack to the halls, I pivot on my heel to flee the stench before I projectile vomited and turned this place into a scene from the Exorcist.

Voice muffled and strained, I call over my shoulder, "sorry, I'm out!" Fade Stepping away as fast as I could to get back up to the corridors above. 

I halt at the top of the stairs, waiting for the others as I cough and gag repeatedly. The stench was only minimally better in the Hall of Stiffs, but at least it was enough to calm my nausea somewhat and get the heaving under control.

Hastening footfalls precede the team before they trot up to join me. Worry over my sudden and speedy retreat evident on their faces as they gather.

"Ya'll are beasts to be able to stand that." I joke by way of greeting. "Seriously debating on how much I want a sense of smell right now. Little magical shove and problem solved!"

Expressions clear in understanding at the jest, realizing it wasn't the carnage that had me escaping.

"Rather thought you would be used to questionable scents by now, Inquisitor. Sleeping next to a woodsmen and all..." Blackwall teases with a soft chuckle and moving to take lead with me again.

Filing in behind us, "I believe we settled on Hobo, my bushy friend." Dorian corrects.   

Smiling when I hear Solas' hassled sigh, "if that's how hobos smell, we're going to have to fill Skyhold with 'em." Exaggeratedly inhaling and expelling it dreamily, "like sexy pauperie." And instantly regretting the deep sniff.

 _"Bleh!"_ Comes Sera's instant response to my proposal.

"Depends on the hobo, Boss. Elves usually have that nice, earthy scent but humans can get a bit porky." I press my lips tightly together to stifle my laughter at Bull's matter-of-fact quip. Not wanting to draw attention to our procession as we weave around the gruesome obstacles in our path.

"I take offense to that. And you most certainly weren't raising any objections to my 'porkiness' yesterday."

Mirth bursts past my lips before I can stop it and I hastily clamp a hand over my mouth to silence it. Doing a poor job of suppressing the amusement at the debate raging at my back.

Our short stretch of hall becomes incredibly long once we round a sharp corner. The high vaulted ceiling rising further to account for another level opening over the corridor. More fleshy decorations dangle from stone bridging the hallway above. The Darkspawn obviously not ones to waste prime space it seemed.

My attention shifts to the second story as we draw closer to the center, noting nothing of the level above could be seen. The others must have had similar thoughts, their eyes shifting to rake over the bridges and hall's edge. Blackwall and I step beneath the shadow of the first just as an audible cracking click comes from the left.

My eyes snap to Blackwall at the sound, barely catching sight of one of the limbless torsos sweeping out from against the wall and plowing into Blackwall's back. Slamming him forward to skid on his front.

Eyes widened in incredulity as Blackwall slides to a stop, "Holy shit!" and rushing to go help him. " _Haha_ , you alright? Usually it's me wh--AHH!"

Exclaiming in surprise as my ankle is viciously yanked out from under me, dropping me to crash onto my back. My skull strikes the stone hard and the wind is knocked from my lungs before I'm suddenly dragged forward to be hoisted straight into the air. The stone bridges and a cage full of body parts speed past in a rush as it plummets to the floor and I'm raised to hang high above the floor.

Dazed, swinging wilding, and spinning; I flail in stunned confusion. Everything happening so lightning quick that my mind was slow to comprehend. Intense pressure and a headache rapidly forms from being hung upside down as shouts and anxious faces race to gawk up at me.

" _Nnuugghh..._ the fuck...." Blinking to clear the spots from my vision and seeing that everything was inverted. "This Hall of Horrors is bullshit!!" Mildly freaking out from being so high up with solid tile the only thing to land on.

The pressure adds another level of panic and I begin to struggle. Setting the bloody rope to swaying even more as I strive to bend to find relief.

"Akira! Calm, love!"

I halt my vain floundering to limply dangle like a pendulum at the sound of his voice. Trying to concentrate solely on Solas to keep the crazy at bay. Watching as he energized the meat cage counterweight to begin lowering me back down.

Barely dropping me partway before I spot grotesque shapes racing from the archways on the second floor. Their emergence and charge impossible for the others to see from the ground level.

"INCOMING!" I shout in warning.  

Flinging globules to energy to act as magical grenades to give the team time to ready themselves. Pitching the leading Darkspawn in all directions when they land. It's like observing a small swarm descend from both ends of the corridor as I continue to rain support from above.

A burly Hurlock leaps to land next to Solas, chopping out to hack into his clavicle. I'm suddenly jerked back up again as he retreats to dodge the blow, bringing his staff up with a snap to strike the creature's elbow. Mercilessly breaking bone and twisting to bring the head of his staff to smash into the Hurlock's face.

Another Hurlock drops, slashing out to gut Solas and I see no more as he disappears underneath the walkway. Only able to catch glimpses and flashes of his magic as I endeavor to thin the herd as best I can. My vision beginning to blacken as I became increasingly lightheaded.

A sharp whistle reaches my ears at the same time a bolt zooms dangerously close to my face. I flail in order to spin around, looking to locate the archer. Another, then another bolt shoots past. Narrowly turning me into a hanging pin cushion. I swing wildly while hurling spears at the Genlock archers, felling them quickly enough but not before more projectiles zing my way from the other end of the corridor. Effectively putting me in the crosshairs and forcing me to consider drastic measures to avoid being killed.

Arrows and bolts were coming from two directions now. Their accuracy improving and getting closer the longer I swung there like a sitting duck. The pressure in my skull and darkening vision weren't aiding matters and I was running out of time before I blacked out completely.

I take careful aim while blowing out a huge breath at what I was about to do. _"SUCK IT, BITCHES!"_ Throwing energy to cut the counterweight.

It snaps at my upward swing, allowing me to experience a split second of weightlessness before I plummet to the tier below. I desperately thrust magic at the landing, attempting to decelerate my descent as much as I can. Rotating my body to take the impact with my legs as I hurtle to the stone, knowing something was going to break and choosing it to be them.

My scream is instant upon slamming down. Legs folding and crumpling beneath me as bone shatters. I roll to my back, crying out and beginning to shudder from the shooting pain racing up my body. Genlocks and other Darkspawn charge my fallen form. Through the haze of hurt I see them. A deep growl escapes me as I grit my teeth to silence the screams. Crudely I gather magic to rip into their skulls, flicking the energy in their general direction.

I twist to aim better when one doesn't die, its head only grazed and the blow doing little more than staggering it. The Hurlock shakes itself like an animal, releasing a beastly yell before it comes at me again. I wind up, preparing another attempt.

With astonishing finesse, Solas steps into its path. Hooking the Hurlock's leg and crashing it to the floor. His wrists deftly spinning his staff to jab down as if he was impaling the Hurlock to the tile. Intense heat and a blaze of light ripples out in a wave of fire as Solas sends his magic shooting into the creature. Destroying it with a ruthless efficiency that was quite mesmerizing to behold.

Solas quickly rushes to kneel beside me, not looking at all pleased. "Why could you not have waited?" Tone holding nothing but reproach as he gently places his left hand on my hip. His palm glowing with power.

_Yup. Definitely mad._

Losing strength to fight the pain, I let myself lay back. "Thought better of becoming Darkspawn target practice." My breathes coming out as strained pants. His expression loses its edge at my flippant remark and I smile feebly in an attempt to make him feel better. "It was kinda cool. I think a few more tries and I can learn to fly."

The terrible jest doesn't so much as earn me a twitch.

His brow furrows in remorse and he swallows. "I'm sorry, _vhenan_." The warmth of his magic wanders through me, taking stock of my injuries and his face falls further. He shifts to call down to the others still below on the ground level. "I need help!"


	46. Chapter 46

"I need help!" Calling down to the team below.

Eyes widen as I lift my head to look down at myself. Slightly panicking at Solas' request for aid, wondering what the hell was wrong with me that he needed assistance.

"Fuck, I'm about to croak. How bad is it? I thought I just snapped something." Breathes puffing out in short, rapid pants with the extra level of dread his words bring.

At the sound of fear, Solas returns his attention to me. His expression smoothing out to one of collected composure though his eyes remained troubled.

"No, _vhenan_. Your right tibia is shattered. And there are multiple fractures in both legs." He hesitates, appearing to debate whether he should continue. "Healing such extensive injuries within a short period will be excruciating. The help is to hold you while I set bone. If I could lessen the pain I would."

I blink at him, brow creasing in disbelief. "That's it? You made it seem like I was dying. We're going to work on your delivery. It's awful." Resting back down and weakly extending a hand to pat the side of his thigh.

His mouth quirks with the barest hint of amusement at the comment. "You would not be the first to say so." Scrambling and a muttered curse drift from the direction of the bridges. Solas turns from me, face serious once again as he addresses whomever had climbed up to join us, "take her shoulders. Keep her as still as you can."

Hurried footfalls and the rustling of robes precede Dorian as he rushes over to crouch at my head. "Attempting to put the myth that Elves can fly to rest are we, my friend?" He jests with a soft smirk in an effort to lighten the mood and ease my fear.

I swallow nervously when Dorian's weight firmly presses me to the floor and I feel Solas' hands gently but resolutely grip my right thigh, preparing to angle and align. "Missed history in the making. Little higher and I think I might have cracked the secret of flight." Trying for bravado and fixing my attention determinedly on Dorian. Solas shifts my leg and the pain is instant, jabbing straight to hip with racking intensity. "Totally stuck the landing at least." Voice tight and strained as my hands shoot up to clutch Dorian's forearms, fighting to remain quiet and calm while Solas works.

"With unparalleled grace by the looks of it."

"Is that sarcasm I h-hear?" Struggling to breathe through the hurt and maintain the air of nonchalance. Sweat beading my temples by the time Solas finally has my thigh where he wanted.

"Oh, the crumpling like an empty sack was intentional. Well, carry on." Purposefully playing along to give me something to keep me occupied.

"W-what's that? Sounds like jealousy to me. Being able to b-break like stale bread takes skill and exactitude. It's not for beginners..." Vision spotting when Solas turns his focus lower.

Weight pinning my shoulders more when I begin to thrash against the agony, "That wasn't a Novice leap? Can't wait to see what Master level holds."

The smile is fleeting as I clench my jaw to ride out the flood of shooting pain, harshly blowing air though gritted teeth while Dorian singlehandedly continued the banter above me. Only able to offer grunted amusement here and there when I could focus enough to listen. It felt like an eternity of radiating torture that was broken by splits seconds of unconsciousness before it died down to a slightly manageable throb.

I open my eyes to chance a peek at Solas, having wanted to avoid watching him maneuver the shattered limbs. His face holds stern concentration as he kneels over me with confident hands, funneling magic to mend bone. The delicate meticulousness required to piece everything back together taking a heavy toll by the look of exhaustion bracketing his eyes. Past the point that precision was strictly needed; Dorian's dancing energy joins Solas' to help finish knitting marrow, lifting some of the burden from him. Their combined effort quick to completely heal the last of the damage. Leaving a sensation of being tired and mildly numb in my limbs.

Dorian sits back, removing his weight from my shoulders as Solas leans to settle back on his heels. Palms resting on his thighs while his eyes do a last once over on my legs before shifting to my face.

"Any discomfort?"

Gingerly I bring a knee up then stretch it out, relaxing and moving with more certainty when not so much as a twinge comes. "No, I'm good." Sitting up and worriedly looking at the fatigue marring his features, "are you all right? Is it your mana? I have lyrium." Patting a knee pocket to make sure they had in fact made it through the rough landing.

"No, it will pass. But thank you." Gaze warm as he stands, extending a hand to me.

"Don't mind me. I'm fine too." Dorian airily waves and strides to the edge of our platform.

It felt like my legs were made of jelly as I lumber to my feet, forcing Solas to use more strength to haul me up then he was probably expecting. His eyes follow me with concern when I trail after Dorian, his body moving to stick close as if I was liable to topple at any second.

Dorian seats himself on the ledge and pivots to hang over the side before letting go to drop down to the others. I plop down to imitate his descent, voicing the question that came to mind upon seeing the distance from brim to floor.

"How did you get up here?"  Briefly glancing at Solas as I twist my body to dangle off the rim.

Kneeling to hold my arms until fingers from below reached for my legs, "I jumped." releasing me to the waiting hands with a brow raised in challenge at my 'fuck that, you're shitting me' expression.

_What the...are ancient Elves frogs or something? Holy crap._

Eyeballing the height once again and trying to compute what it would look like to leap up there. I slide down as Iron Bull gently grabs me and sets me to the floor. Observing Solas practically hop to hang over the side and silently land beside us. Shaking my head in flabbergasted disbelief at the ridiculous athleticism that would require as we unanimously press on.   

We marched the long stretch of hallway until it sharply curved, forming an L with an abrupt alcove at its end. A massive hole punched into the sandstone wall halts us. Eerily cool air and the tang of iron waft from its depths as we step to stand in a semi-circle at its entrance.

Eyes narrowing and taking a hard glint, Blackwall's mouth pinches in loathing at the sight. "This must be where the Darkspawn are coming from. Buggers dug their way through."

Solas shakes his head at Blackwall's assessment. "No, look." Gesturing with his staff to the rubble and discarded metal littering the tile. "The tunnel was opened from the inside. Someone was digging here, presumably the Venatori we found below."

"What's the point of ruttin' around out here?" Shrugging her shoulders with a roll of her eyes at the apparent randomness of the Venatori's actions.

"They were digging for something better left undisturbed."  Is his only response on the matter. Falling frustratingly silent without elaborating as was his habit.

_Digging for Archdemons? Old Gods? Titans? Red Lyrium? Something else? What?!!_

"Let's block this up then shall we." Wanting to shake the living crap out of him and demand normal people answers.

I retreated along with the others to give Solas and Dorian space to energize metal and stone for a makeshift blockade. Crossing my arms and barely suppressing an exasperated _tsk_ while I studied Solas' back. Relatively certain at this point that I was going to have an aneurism by the end of everything from holding so much in.

Probably feeling the burning scrutiny, Solas turns to meet my gaze. Bewilderment surfacing at the grumpy displeasure being directed at him.

 _You're lucky you're so pretty._ Giving him a hummed _mm-hmm!_ as I pivot to hopefully lead us out of the Corridor of Despair. His expression of puzzlement deepening and doubtless wondering what he'd done to warrant the bout of crazy.      

Oddly enough, all traces of the gore fest cease when we stride through a short breezeway and into an enormous chamber. Its ceiling collapsed and allowing for the elements-namely sand, to encroach. Animalistic and humanoid footprints score the grainy ground, marking the passage of someone-or something- before us.

Angular, jagged idols jut from beneath the sand and ruined roof. Their counterparts easily spotted lining the wall on the side of the room we entered from. Slabs formed of hard planes and edges rest directly underneath, indicating they were likely alters. Though for whom or what was unclear from the undistinguishable blob of stone the Imperium called statues.

The tracks put everyone on high alert as we sidle down a short staircase to partly sink into the sand. It was like descending into a ravine and following it before being forced to climb up to the half of the room with the terrible Tevinter art. The design of the chamber was obviously meant to be multileveled but weather and wreckage had made sections impassable or utterly destroyed.

Two ornate doorways sit at each end of our segment of room. Offering a mystery and possible alternate route out other than the walkways leading farther into the chamber we found ourselves in. Gesturing for us to split and motioning to the doors, we quietly separate. Moving to search in teams of three. Dorian and Iron Bull march with me to the far end, keeping an eye out for any signs of danger or the enemy. Each of us fully expecting there to be something on the other side of the room considering the creepy stillness and prickling of awareness racing down our spines.

I rest my hand on the heavy iron wrung, preparing to throw the door wide for Bull. He signals the go ahead and I shove it open with all my might as he charges full throttle inside. Dorian and I are quick to follow, freezing in slack-jawed astonishment right behind Bull when we get a gander of what's awaiting us.

Brows lifting in dramatic fashion, "Oh, look! We found the Nope Room." Dorian quips.

Nope Room was right. Seems the bloody horror show had been saved in order to pack this small space with it. Creating an area of 'Oh-Hell-Fucking-No'. Heads had been mounted on the wall and hung on sconces. Skinned corpses sat propped in large wing backed chairs as if they were morbid dolls. As my eyes roved over the study, the question of what the Darkspawn had done with the skins was solved. Dried, poorly pieced together human flesh was thrown on the floor before the recline bodies like some sort of animal rug. Adding another notch to the messed up shit Darkspawn were capable of.

" _Grrumph..._ Fucking Darkspawn." He growls before spinning to leave.

Having no reason to linger, we dog his departure. Walking to join the others and see what they might have found. Passing the first walkway and halfway to the second door, piercing whistles rend the air.

Iron Bull's steady gait was directly in front of me and suddenly it lurches to the side as two arrows wetly thunk into his deltoid and ribs. There's no time to comprehend he was shot before searing pain stabs me and I drop like a rock.

"GAHH! FUCK! MY ASS!" Clutching my left butt cheek and staring down at a protruding arrow lodged there.

Dorian slams down a barrier as Iron Bull plucks the arrows from his body like they were mere splinters. Rushing the Darkspawn who had chosen to show themselves with a fierce battlecry. Easily cleaving his way through the tiny Genlocks attempting to swarm him. Dorian shifts to stand in front of me as he provides support.

Another rallying shout rings out then Blackwall is abruptly hacking and bashing is way to stand with Bull. Arrows and wisps of magic zip from our side of the room as Sera and Solas take measured strides to get to us. Moving to gather in a close cluster to shield my downed form.

With Solas there to provide cover, Dorian crouches down to handle my embarrassing situation.

"There is so much beautiful irony here I don't know where to begin." Positively glowing with evil glee as he places a hand on my hip for leverage.

"Maybe you should start _behind_." Snickering and trying not to giggle as she loosens an arrow.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to make _ass_ umptions." Yanking the wood out without so much as a warning.

"Oh, _butt_ you would!"

"Then should we _end_ it here?" Smirking merrily while his magic dances through torn muscle, mending and knitting.

"Inky might _crack_ if we do." Losing the battle and giving in to her amusement.

I prop my chin in my hand as I shake my head at Sera and Dorian. "I'm not going to live this one down am I?"

"At least the injury was minor, Akira. Dorian will have you _rear_ ing to go soon enough." Pointedly keeping his focus on the last Darkspawn engaged with the warriors.

Laughing at even Solas throwing in, "ya'll suck, I want you to know that."

Gasping in mock shock, "even our dear Solas? _Butt_ you practically _moon_ over him." Shifting his gaze to address Solas, "that must be quite the _bum_ mer, my friend." Dorian airily chirps as he sends a last flick of magic to finish his spell before he stands with a devilish grin.

Chuckling as I rubbed my insulted glute and getting up to see what we had left to deal with, "just wait 'til one of you gets nailed in the ass. It will be glorious, divine justice."

I catch the end of the skirmish that had waged as I writhed on the floor. Watching a Hurlock Alpha stagger forward from being rammed in the back by Blackwall. Leaving the heavily armored creature stunned so Iron Bull could viciously bury his broad axe in its chest. It's knees buckle, staying upright only due to Bull's grip on his weapon still lodged within its body. With a hard jerk and planted boot on the Hurlock's torso, Bull frees his axe and the enemy topples back with a resounding metal clank.

Together we move to join the warriors across the walkways, able to see another breezeway and stairs from our position on them. Walking up, Blackwall's face splits in a shit eating grin and I smirk, knowing exactly what's coming.

"Too late buddy. They already took all the butt puns." Shoulders sag and his expression falls with a slight pout at the announcement.  

"As if we would join in such _ass_ inine behavior, Boss." Bull counters in feigned offense.

It startles a snorted laugh from me, " _Haha_. Okay, that one was pretty good." Smiling and shaking my head in incredulity as Dorian steps to heal Iron Bull, "Holy shit, Bull, you just said 'Fuck it!' and virtually just swiped the arrows off like bug stings..." Blowing an astonished breath when he merely shrugs.   

Looking over this new half of the chamber, I see that it was decked out in the beginnings of broken furniture to be utilized as blockades. There was none of the grisly adornments I had come to expect but that may only be because the Darkspawn either hadn't gotten to it yet or perhaps it was saved for the lone door behind the barricades.

Biting my lip in consideration as I eyed the door, I twist to ask the others, "What did you guys find when you checked the door?"

"Creepy shite."

"Nothing worth mentioning."

"More of the Darkspawn's version of home decorating."

Comes their instant replies. Taking into account we had been zero for two already, it was reasonably safe to assume mystery door number three would hold the same level of weirdness.

Decided, I turn from the door and head to the breezeway I spotted earlier. "I think we've had enough of Darkspawn Prison of Bullshit." Hearing my teammates varying grunts and mumbled sounds of agreement behind me as I hopped down to the sandy corridor.     

The sun brightly shone through the open hallway we entered upon leaving the large chamber. Its winding and very long passage taunting us with the possibility of freedom from the ruin's gloominess without actually letting us out. No separate routes or holes break its monotony, it was simply a corridor thickly covered in sand.

I trudge along, kicking up grainy earth, seriously debating just blasting through wall until I reached the outside when a booming roar that feels like it rattled my very bones resounds. Everyone halts where they stand, seemingly just as stunned as me at the noise. Heart beating so thunderously I would not be surprised if the others could hear it, I gulp and hesitantly start forward again.

"You guys heard that right? That sounded big right? It's big..." Sera's nervous muttering doing nothing to make me feel better.

A few more minutes and it roars again, definitely sounding closer and very pissed off. My confident gait turns reluctant when an end to the hallway of endlessness finally presents itself. Not at all wanting to face what was waiting out there.

Expression scrunched in an unenthusiastic grimace, I gingerly poke my head out the archway. Scanning over the colossal stone courtyard. A choked squeak escaping me when the source of the scary noises comes into view.

The gargantuan form of a Giant was attempting to climb the bailey wall and get out to the world beyond. Its limbs were incredibly gangly but even they were not quite tall enough to easily haul the massive weight up and over. The Giant's back was away from us and if we were careful, we could bypass the beast without having to engage it.

Intending to do just that, I move out of the safety of the corridor just as Iron Bull steps out and spots the creature flailing for freedom.

"All right! Dead Vints, Darkspawn, and now a Giant! This place keeps getting better and better!" He triumphantly shouts at the top of his lungs.

An immense head snaps to focus its one eye on us. The grotesque, tusked face snarling as it releases an earsplitting roar.

_Well...nutsack._


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side Notes:
> 
> Waiting reference incoming.

"All right! Dead Vints, Darkspawn, and now a Giant! This place keeps getting better and better!"

_Nutsack._

The grotesque, tusked face of the Giant snaps around to focus on us at Iron Bull's enthusiastic shout. Its appearance more in line of a Cyclops then a Giant with the skin of its temples and forehead wrinkling to converge to a single enormous eye. The presence of tattered, bat-like ears projecting from the hideous skull gives the beast an overall look of a breeding experiment gone terribly wrong.

And the hair...

Before Bull's ill-timed excitement had called attention to us; thick hair covering its back and trailing down to draw the eye to disturbingly fuzzy cheeks had been spotted. The sudden reveal of the Giant's front when it spins to engage us is a sight that instantly has me wishing for Cole's ability to mind wipe. Grimacing with a shudder at the stomach hair forming a path to a very matted- and very wild, bush.

" _Woof!_ How does it find the goat?! It's so...so angry!" Sera blurts in horrified fascination upon emerging from the archway. Her thought quickly seconded by Blackwall who was close behind.  

A booming roar emits when its gleaming orb falls on our team of six clustered within the covered niche. Seemingly setting the very air to vibrate with its cry. Wiping all traces of humor from my companions faces at the near feral fixation being directed our way. Its body hunches ominously, knees bending as muscles tense in preparation for an attack.

With a squealed "Eeeeee!" I Fade Step to get out of the narrow alcove, its enclosed space a potential death trap if caught and cornered inside it. Instinctively phasing to rush into the wide open courtyard just as the brick beneath my feet violently quakes and I'm bounced up like a spring. My limbs flailing before flopping to the stone with a hard smack.

I scramble to stand and desperately push off to Fade Step farther away as a growl rumbles from behind. A rush of air hits my back before I get far, driving me to phase deeper into the quad. Hoping to stay out of range and at a safe distance from the fray.

Sand densely covers the tiles and even utterly buries some sections of the spacious courtyard. Its vast emptiness and lack of anything other than massive armored statues ringing a central depression providing a feeling of being horribly isolated and vulnerable when I finally halt.

Two of the towering figures loom above me as I skid to a stop, kicking up a dusty cloud and spinning to take in what was happening with the others.

The warriors hack and slash with swift efficiency at exposed joints, attempting to chop through the thick skin and bring it down. Whirling and ducking to evade enormous feet and hands as the Giant swipes and stomps, trying to get rid of the annoying pests. It's monstrous head swiveling to keep the others in its sight. Obviously more interesting in reaching the mages and Sera who had been unable to move out of the shadow of the archway quick enough. But the continued assault of Iron Bull and Blackwall was vicious enough that it was forced to pause to swat at them instead. Splitting the Giant's attention between the bothersome insects at its feet and the ones trapped in the niche. Magic and arrows flying as they vainly attempt to inch their way around the raging beast only to be cornered again when swinging limbs lash out.

I spread my stance, extending an arm in preparation as I wind the other back, amassing as much energy as I could for a spear. Hop-stepping to fling it like a javelin when magic violently jostles and collides against my control.

 _"IT'S OVER NINE-THOUSAANNNDDD!"_ Twisting my hips and hurling the lance with all my strength at the Giant's skull.

It's an explosion of currents as magic punches into the back of the ugly head. Harshly slamming the Giant's face forward to bash into the edge of the alcove's ceiling. A deafening howl echoing over the courtyard as it staggers and thrashes in pain, clutching its beaten face.

It's the opening the three needed, their bodies leaping to get around the flailing Giant and fan out along the quad. Hand pulling back, I gather energy to press the advantage, intending to keep the Giant off-balance and disorientated.    

It shakes angrily before spinning to scan the courtyard. The movement splashing blood in a fine arc to drizzle over the grainy stone. Red freely flowing from a deep gash as a once gleaming eye blearily locates the source of power responsible.

An alarmed squeak escapes when colossal muscles tighten and a gargantuan body is suddenly loping across the quad.

 _"HOLY SHIT!!"_ Fade Stepping and abandoning all pretense of bravery. My legs pumping to sprint over the sand and dash close to the statues, praying they would offer some sort of buffer from the death train chasing me down. " _shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit!_ "  

Tremors race through the ground beneath my feet. Beastly huffs and snarls sounding so near it drives me to push harder, too fearful to glance behind. Thunderous clacking and shrill grinding joins the feral din as I run, ratcheting up the feeling that this was quickly turning into a cluster fuck.

Huge chunks of metal crash and tumble over the stone in my peripheral. The cause of the scary noise identified as more of the statues I pass are thrown or batted aside, clouds and trails of sand kicking up from the mindless show of brute strength.

I sharply pivot to Fade Step across the depression, aiming to put more oversized art in its way. Wondering how much longer it would take the others to drop this thing as I was swiftly running out of obstacles. Reaching the first statue just as a vicious quake shakes the ground and I'm bounced straight into the air once again.

My body twists to land with an ungainly, jarring thud on my side. Rolling the rest of the way in time to see grasping hands stretching to engulf me.

 _"Ah, hell no! Friend request denied, bitch!"_ Slinging sloppily collected magic into its looming eye.

The Giant rears back with a roar, pawing at its face as I frantically scuttle backwards. Flinging myself behind the base of a statue even as the monster recovers and I hear the hastening charge of the others catching up. Barely avoiding the seeking fingers when they rake the dusty tile over the spot I had vacated seconds before.

My fingers desperately claw the sand as I scramble to get to my feet, fervently wishing to put space between me and the large thing determined to use me like an Elven rattle. The high-pitched scraping of metal registers at the same moment the statue above me is collapsed nearly right on top of me.

On instinct I curl into a tight ball, crying out in surprised panic at having something massive and sharp toppled on me.

It's immense weight comes to a grating, bumping halt with the faintest of grazing touches against my coiled form. The compact size of my body and the still intact stone plinth narrowly saving me from being squashed.

The shaking ground and snarling growls virtually filling the air above me has my breathes coming in scared pants. Grunts and curses reaching my ears as I squirm and wiggle to extract myself from underneath the clattering statue. Uncaring of the sensation of jagged edges scratching and scouring along tender skin in my effort to free myself. Hurriedly popping up when I succeed to turn to the fierce struggle raging feet from me.

Blackwall and Bull stubbornly occupy the Giant's attention, slicing deeply into already wounded flesh. Dangerously lingering longer in their attacks before whirling away in order to be the targets instead of me. Even Sera and the mages have positioned themselves closer, forming a large semi-circle to surround the beast. Mercilessly riddling skull and throat with arrow and magic.

Solas stands across the quad, his comforting and solid presence greatly desired at the moment to clear away the fear. My gaze seeks his form to help steady myself before jumping back in to the shit storm. Catching the worried question in his eyes as he hesitates in his spells to spare a fugitive glance my way. I smile weakly and give him a jittery thumbs up, not feeling confident in the least.

I should have known the Giant crapshoot could get worse.

It is was while I forced myself to take a calming breath and prepared to add my own magic to the mix that Dorian unleashes an Energy Barrage. The powerful little homing spheres clearly aimed for the creature's chest but ending up striking its face one after the other instead when it bends to swipe at Blackwall.

Red drips in thick rivulets as the Giant simply sprays bloody spittle at the battering and leaps with all its might to reach mages now within range thanks to me.

At the Giant's booming landing Dorian is tossed up like he'd been standing on a trampoline, crashing to the hard stone on his back. I frantically summon magic, slinging it as quickly as it was conjured when an arm extends to snatch up the fallen mage.

Sparkling blue instantly encases his body as he's cruelly seized in an enormous hand. His face scrunching in a fierce snarl of concentration and resolve as magic is channeled to withstand the crushing grasp lifting him high. Fingers callously clench, squeezing the dazzling barrier, attempting to burst it to get to the prize within.

Attacks are redoubled as we try to force the Giant to relinquish its trophy. Powerless to do more than witness as both hands come together to compress the struggling mage between them, tightly constricting the blazing light in its palms. Dorian's vehement curses carry over the sounds of magic and metal striking flesh. Their angry denial seeming to fuel ruthlessness to Bull's axe. Its heavy edge hacks deep and cuts into tendon at the moment a brief flicker races over the magic above, its brilliance sputtering for a horrifying second before shoring itself.

An agonized roar erupts from the grotesque maw as the Giant's legs buckle, shaking the very ground when it topples to its knees. The lanky body hunching over and forced to release its grip with one hand in order to stay upright.

Iron Bull pitilessly yanks his weapon from the beast's ankle, growling in livid anger as he backpedals. In great bounding strides, Bull sprints for the downed Giant, pushing off with a ferocious shout to vault onto the wide shoulders. His body arching as he puts all his strength behind a savage chop. The razor sharp axe buries through bone and soft tissue with brutal efficiency, setting the mammoth body to convulsing uncontrollably in its death throes.

Iron Bull rides the slumping beast as fingers without direction open and finally drop a wobbly Dorian. Wet gurgles and a long, hissed breath drifts over the now eerily quiet courtyard. On unsteady legs, Dorian lurches to his feet while Bull works his weapon free, the rest of us panting in a slightly shell shocked stupor as everyone takes stock of themselves.

Bull alights from the monstrous corpse, moving to step close to a rumpled Dorian, and leans in to cockily smile at a faintly pouting face feigning indifference. I plop to seat myself, loath to interrupt and letting them enjoy their shared moment. Knowing how nice it was to have the comforting presence of your lover after a proverbial poop storm. Blowing a gusty sigh as I relax back to lay out spread-eagled on the sandy stone. Uncaring of the added grittiness since I was already covered head to toe.

It felt almost surreal watching clouds lazily float overhead after experiencing something rampaging to kill you just seconds before. The sheer normalcy of it making me laugh as I feel the others file to join me.     

"Not the response I would have expected after being chased to ground but I'll take it." Chuckling as he tosses his shield down and promptly sits with an exhausted groan. "Maker, but that thing could run. Thought we'd be scraping elf from the walls for sure and weathering Cassandra's wraith while she crushed our bits."

"You were bloody squirrely, it was grand!" Cackling jovially as she positions herself near my calves.

There's a subtle shift in the air. A tingle of awareness across my skin that sends goose-bumps rising before a feather light caress ghosts over my wrist. I smile, my hand interrupting his magic as it twists to link our fingers instead. The abrasions not painful enough that I would skip a chance to touch him. He studies the blaring red barely concealed by grit, the angry streaks a glaring contrast against pale flesh. His gaze roving over my body before tenderly meeting mine and sending energy through our clasped hands.  

The four of us sit upon the sandy tile, silently taking solace in each other's company as we let the simple happiness of being alive drain the tension of the encounter away. None in any hurry to disturb Dorian and Bull in order to get moving. Three of us suppressing our habitual need to heckle to allow them privacy.

"Every time I think we've found the ugliest creature, a new one springs forth that surpasses my expectations. We deserve applause." Jesting in his usual flippant manner when he and Bull walk to our little assembly.

Chuckles and nodded agreement greet his assessment as we lumber to weary feet. Moving as one to exit the courtyard to get this business of the prison done so we could leave and never look back. Everyone visibly in need of rest and some down time by the worn-out expressions and lethargic movements.

Only one doorway was facing a direction that could potentially take us outside and our strides veer to determine if our assumption was accurate. The well oiled hinges and tracks in the sand as we shove open the heavy door proving we had chosen correctly. Nothing hinders or obstructs our path when we enter the small foyer. The tiny space utterly empty other than Tevinter style dragon statuettes on each side of the room.  

Positively giddy now at the prospect of being free of this place, we descend the short stairs and cross to the door. Opting for caution as we set the warriors to breach the exit first, the rest of us hanging back in case there was anything unsavory lying in wait. Happily surprised when only the cobbled entrance of the ruins lies beyond.

Weapons remain at the ready, still on high alert as we filter out into the Grecian-esque entry. Its towering pillars and columns ringing the central depression the perfect things to hide behind and blitz anyone leaving.

Soft nickers and the jangling of reins reach our attentive ears partway out, the stone acting as a soundboard that carried the slightest noise. Wordlessly scattering to quietly conceal ourselves when voices and the clank of plated boots are heard as well.

Four fully-armored swordsmen built like brawny wrestlers march into view. Drawing their blades while they sociably chat, obviously here for some other purpose then to stop us by their blasé demeanor. I wait in anxious anticipation for the men to enter the middle of the stony expanse, picking the squattiest of the group before dramatically hopping out.     

"HEY YOU WITH THE PANTS ON!" Pitching a ball of energy as four startled faces swivel in my direction.

Magic barrels into my target's legs, toppling his stocky figure like a domino. Amid the sudden charging shouts and projectiles zipping through the air, I swiftly Fade Step to the fallen soldier. Phasing out to place a kick to his unprotected skull as he raises to hands and knees. With a pained cry, his head snaps back, hands instinctively lifting to cover his face while blood drips from between his fingers as he rolls to his side.

Circling to get behind, I drop down, shoving a knee into his spine to pin him while yanking his left arm back. Forcing the limb to remain standing straight with a firm grip on wrist and elbow, contorting with more pressure when the body beneath me attempts to struggle and buck.

"Best calm those tits. Wouldn't want anything to go _pop_." I evilly chirp even as the others are quickly ending the futile resistance of the rest of his team. "So, what brings your merry little band out here to the Prison of Fun and Butterfly Kisses?"

"Fuck you, knife-eared cunt!" He defiantly spits, thrashing again before the pitiless bend of joint halts him.

"Ho-oh! Non-compliance! Sweet!" I triumphantly quip. "I've never tried torturing anyone for answers before, guess this means you get to be lucky number one? Now, bear with me, haven't done this before so if something breaks or ruptures more than it should...whoopsies!" A crack in his bravery as a nervous gulp comes from under me at the maniacal rambling. "You're a guy right? Yeah. So perhaps we start with a little testicular torsion? I hear that's pretty painful. Twist the testicles around a couple times, cut off blood flow..." Skin pales and sweat begins to bead the man's brow as I see four sympathetic male cringes from my peripheral at the description. I tilt my head, my voice taking on a musing quality, "not entirely certain how to accomplish it though...I think I just keep twisting-" rotating my palm over his wrist to mimic the action, "or is it caused by trauma? All well! We'll just try both until one works!"

"wait-" Worried eyes shifting to my companions in the hope of mercy.

"That's just cruel, Boss." The body under me relaxing a fraction in relief at Bull's words. "Castration is much more humane. Just need a blade and fire to heat the metal. Wouldn't want him to bleed out before your done."

"No. No, please-"

"Ahhh~ but I liked my idea..." Sighing in disappointment. "Guess, you'd know better. There's three mages here and I have my daggers. I think we're set-"

"Wait! I don't know much-"

"How hot does the blade need to be? I'm bad with temperatures. Wouldn't want to melt it instead 'cuz then I'm just pouring molten metal-"

"NO! WAIT, PLEASE WAIT! SERVIS, SERVIS SENT US! PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T DO THIS!" Truly panicked now as his eyes frantically race between me and the others.

"Well look who decided he wanted to be a chatter bug. Who's Servis and he sent you for what?"

He swallows, gazing at me from the corner of his eye before focusing on my companions. "I'll talk, I'll talk. Just please, please don't let this lunatic touch me." I lift away from him with a gleeful laugh, crossing my arms and remaining close as he tentatively sits up. "His name is Crassius Servis, and he's a mage from the Circle of Magi. He sent us here to see how bad the Darkspawn infestation is and if anything can be salvaged."

"Why was he interested in this place to begin with? What does the Venatori want with it?"

The man licks his lips, clearly reluctant to speak but appearing to be more afraid of what the crazy elf would do. "Knowledge and artifacts. I swear. I swear that's all I know. I'm just a foot soldier, we weren't told what to look for, we just did as we're ordered. Darkspawn came up when the laborers broke through the wall and things got bad fast. We had to retreat and regroup. I swear, I swear...please don't let that woman near my balls...please, I swear..."

Bull steps forward with a threatening growl. "Where? Where are you holding up now?" The first to add their own questions to the interrogation.   

_Poop._

Beginning to regret leaving the man alive to ask about the prison. Having a sneaking suspicion that we would be riding off to be the bearers of Justice.

_Stupid curiosity! Look what you've done!_

"E-Echoback Fort."

"Don't play games. Where's the Fort?"

_Double Poop..._

"S-S-South. It's to the South." Stuttering from the menacing expression Bull presented.

Nodding as though satisfied, Bull calmly unholsters his heavy axe. My brows rise, surprised that was all he wanted and that Bull was going to kill an unarmed opponent but not moving to interfere. Since I didn't particularly care either way if the man was left alive or not. 

Eyes widen in dread at Bull's composure, believing as I did that he was going to meet an untimely end like his team. Instead in a show of deft expertise, Bull clouts the soldier's skull with the butt of his haft. Knocking him unconscious and collapsing to the stone with clean effectiveness.

Staring down at the fallen man, Blackwall chuckles and shakes his head. "Remind me never to get on your bad side. Poor bugger looked like he was going to soil his breeches."

"He didn't even hold out long enough for me to make it to the inspired stuff." Smiling as I turn away, intending to commandeer the horses.

"You're a brave man, Solas." Throwing him a teasing grin before moving to follow me.

"I'm inclined to agree."   

I glance behind, trying not to laugh as my feigned huff at his response is met with amusement. The Venatori's mounts sedately stand next to a tiny well just outside the ring of towering pillars when we step from their shadow. Sand, mountainous ridges, and more sand our dreary backdrop as everyone takes the opportunity to hydrate and refill waterskins.

"If we follow the valley it should lead us straight to the Gate. And that-" Tossing his chin to the opposite ridgeline directly ahead, "is supposed to be our way out of the Approach as well as to the Vints' camp. It might not have been on the agenda Boss, but the fort is unlikely to be far out. Rendezvous with the scouts, rest for the day, and hit them during the night. Assuming Charter's intel on the area is accurate, we lose nothing but a few hours in order to shut down their operations here."

"We'd probably have to deal with them regardless even if we ignored them now." Mentally cursing everyone's need to be the saviors of the universe and Thedas' shitty joke of putting things that needed saving in their path to bother me with. "Scouts first though and sleep. Definitely sleep." Sighing in defeat at having another notch being added to my 'heroic deeds' tally.

_At least you get to sleep first? Yay..._

I think grumpily as the six of us divide into four groups and saddle up. Seriously wondering how a, 'maybe they should nut up then huh?' response would be received with the next plea for Inquisition Justice.


	48. Chapter 48

"Backstabbers! Blood-covered tyrants!"  

"Hypocrites! Backwater bumpkins!"

"...what are you two carrying on about?" Utter bafflement on his bearded face as he observes the pair.

"Demons! Floppy robes!" Ignoring Blackwall's muttered question to win the verbal battle.

"Thieves! Dog stink!"

"Culty shits!"

"Treacherous teyrns!"

Twisting around to look at Dorian in confusion, "what? It's not a proper game of 'Your people are shit' if you make up words!"

His brow rises at the figure sitting before him, shaking his head at the lost expression on Sera's face. "Teyrn is a Fereldan title,-"

I chuckle from my position with Solas, watching the exchange through drowsy eyes. The insufferable heat and lack of any stimulating scenery besides sand lulling me into a hazy trance against him. By the flushed skin and rather tame banter from Sera, it seemed I was not the only one having a hard time remaining unaffected. But at least their bickering on who's win it was provided entertainment for the rest of us and broke the monotony of travel.   

Iron Bull and Blackwall rode slightly ahead, their faces turned to witness the outcome and subsequent victor. Each grinning as they threw in their own choice and purposefully added fuel to the debate. An unnatural, chill breeze faintly ghosts over my skin, prompting me to tilt my head back to look at Solas. Rubbing the muscled thigh nestled against my own comfortingly as I tiredly smile.

"I'm good, you don't have to."

Serious grey eyes study me for a moment before shifting to Sera seated before Dorian. "Perhaps, but neither Sera or yourself appear so. I suspect Dorian is doing the same." He states in his usual pragmatic tone. 

I follow his gaze, conceding that maybe she did look a little hotter than I first thought. Her skin was rosy and seemed clammy even from this distance. Though Sera was hiding it well, her eyes and lackluster blustering betrayed how lethargic she was becoming. If she wasn't holding up, then I doubted my appearance was much better.

Gratefully I shut my eyes, taking the short reprieve from the scorching heat. Raising a hand to blindly run my fingers along his jaw in silent thanks as the hand on my waist stroked in small, soothing circles. The stuffy fog surrounding my mind lifting somewhat at the cooling tingle.

I must have dozed off for suddenly I was being lightly prodded awake and the others were wrangling close. Everyone surveying the ridge forward with a calculating eye. The wall obscuring passage through the valley lay dead ahead once we crested another set of dunes. Why we had come to an abrupt halt when the gate and scouts were so close was a mystery. I open my mouth to ask before noises carrying over the sand have me promptly snapping it shut.

Mutely we look at each other at the sound of men issuing orders and the grunted huff of some large beast. In unspoken agreement we dismount and quietly crouch our way up a grainy bank to investigate this newest impediment.

A Venatori laborer camp composed of three large tents lies situated in the protective shelter of the gully's walls. Its sides flowing close to create a narrow channel to the massive gate beyond. Crates of supplies and tools stand within the cover of a colorful canvas, possibly to shield the more important equipment as the rest was lined throughout the chaotic site.

Bedrolls were clustered within the two remaining tents, likely for the guards and ranking members of the camp while numerous blankets littered the area adjacent to them. The beds for the slaves and laborers no doubt. However as I counted the men and women below, there were more beds then people present.

Ten Venatori hurriedly gather provisions and gear while more simply stood off to the side overseeing the arrangements for departure. The thirteen individuals within view obviously not enough to fill all the empty blankets clearly visible. Begging the question of where, or what, had happened to the rest of the camp.  

Eyes continuing their scrutiny of the encampment, I can't help the groan of vexation as I take in what else was awaiting us down there. "fuuucckkk...come on..."

The enormous form of a Giant crouches in a listless stupor on the ravine path. Its gangly body hunched directly in our way to the gate and appearing to be content to remain there.

"Stupid Giants crap on everything. We're taking 'em anyway right?" Already notching an arrow in preparation.

"That would be unwise, Sera, considering the difficulty a Giant on its own presented." His practical attitude not disguising the dry criticism in the least.

"Well, just...your face is unwise!" Her counter earning a raised eyebrow from Solas.

"No way to get around them and to the gate without a fight, Boss."

"He's right, Inquisitor. And if we're looking to avoid it then we either have to wait them out or go back the way we came."

Dorian sighs at Blackwall's assessment. "Great. So we spent a day getting sand in our unmentionables for nothing. Typical."      

I bite my lip, considering. After the shit we had to endure just to get out here, I wasn't quite ready to have it all be for naught. Especially as the end was mockingly right in front of us. Briefly patting my pocket, I turn to smirk at the others. "Sounds like it's time to say fuck it to logic and do the impossible!" putting as much courage as I could into my voice. "We're going through that stupid gate. I can keep the Giant occupied until ya'll handle the Venatori."

Three expression of disbelief greet the suggestion while Sera and Bull just looked excited about witnessing another bout of crazy shenanigans from me. When I shift to move away, fingers quickly seize my wrist, halting me.

"No." His expression a mask of stern conviction. "A lost day is not worth your life."

"I have a plan."

"They are often terrible." Is Solas' instant response that is wryly seconded by the others.    

"Gee, thanks guys." Chuckling and leaning in to give Solas a quick peck. "This one's good, no worries." Slipping my hand from his grasp, "...maybe..." I mutter and experience a little guilt when the jest is met with a look of dismayed anxiety as I move away.

There was a sandy incline that flanked the camp and the ridge would put me close to the Giant if I was lucky. Staying low, I duck and bear-crawl my way to the other end, careful to avoid creating a dust cloud or noise that would alert someone of my presence.

Heart beating frantically and not feeling nearly as brave now that I was alone, I yank the lyrium vials from my pocket and gulp them both down. Wanting to be at my best and hoping the potions would alleviate the lightheadness. Uncertain if it was the heat getting to me or perhaps a delayed reaction from the previous fight. Either way, once I started I couldn't stop so it was cross the fingers time that lyrium was the solution.

Rubbing a forearm across my eyes in a vain attempt to clear my vision, I pop up enough to see if I could spot the team. Only able to glimpse sand and rock, I drop back and gather energy for a spear. I would just have to assume they were going to be ready when I was.

Blowing a deep breath out and shaking my head at the stupid thing I was about to do, I jump to my feet and hurl magic straight for the Giant's head. Before it even hits, I swiftly collect more energy around me as the beast roars in pain and topples to the side at the blitz attack.

Men and women previously occupied all stop at the cry. Their minds fast to realize the situation and rally even as spells and arrows begin to rain down on them. Shouts ring out from my team and the soldiers rushing to meet the ambush but I don't spare it a glance. Instead I completely focus on the very pissed off monster lurching to its feet and whirling to locate me.

 _"hooo balls...."_ Seriously rethinking my plan and not at all sure why I had thought this idea was a good one but unable to withdraw now. "COME AT ME, BRO! BRING THAT MATTED JUNGLE SWAMP TO MAMA!"

Magic surrounds me in a vicious sphere as I dash to leap from the ridge, the turbulent currents kicking up sand and generating a dust storm. Somehow managing to maintain the channeled energy by sheer will when I land with a less than gentle jolt but hastily shove off anyway. Blindly sprinting in the direction the beast should be to barrel into the towering legs.

Visibility was nonexistent due to the whirlwind enveloping me and even then, the screen of sand thrown up from the whirling globe would have prevented me from seeing anything. However I knew I had found my mark when it felt like I had run full-on into a solid wall. The abrupt, rattling slam bouncing me back on my ass and causing me to frantically shore my magic when it slips from the jarring impact. Another roar echoes and the ground beneath me violently quakes from what I assume is the Giant collapsing.  

Pressing the advantage, I drive forward. Experiencing the equivalent of pushing against a car compacter intent on squishing me. The balls of my feet dig into the sand as I try to propel myself further and meeting angry resistance. Feral growls vibrate in my ears and the sand under my boots is quickly turning to crimson slush but I persist. Needing either a dead monster or my team to tell me to stop before I could safely get away.

My vision starts to aggressively spot, a migraine forming so intensely that I never saw what was happening until it was too late. Bloody grains flare a brilliant pale blue, punching through the single-minded haze I had put myself in just in time for me to recognize I was fucked. 

I'm brutally flung like a ragdoll when the potent mine bursts. My concentration and magic entirely vanishing as I'm sent flying into something hard. My lungs painfully compress from the crashing hit, winding me when I rebound off the object. Small rocks and sand rain down, proceeding to bury me and only serve to add insult to injury at this point. Though it wasn't deep, probably several inches of grit covering me, it still felt like a struggle to get up. The dizziness from before and the current lack of oxygen providing an extra level of shittyness. I hear the worried yells of the team as I bust through to stand, sending sand cascading off while I relentlessly cough.

"I-- _cough_ \--LIVE!" Victoriously lifting my fists high above my head as I continued to cough uncontrollably. 

The heavy clank of metal footfalls and breathless pants racing in my direction quickly follow the triumphant whoop. Expecting the team any second, I squint through the hacking fit and try to see into the dusty fog. My body slow to react when a Spellbinder steps into view instead.

The ethereal glow of his palm rises for a spell, slapping me from the stunned surprise. My own pulls back to desperately fling magic before him but the delayed hesitation gives him the advantage. In this world all it took was a moment and everything was over. I curse, knowing it was too late and bracing myself for the worst even as I strove to bring him down with me.

Magic cruelly pierces the Spellbinder from behind at the same instant an arrow wetly lodges in his throat. I stand frozen, unable to comprehend the miracle that had just taken place as I blink in astonishment while his body is thrown to the ground with the force of their combined impact.

"Eat it! Ate it!"

Sera's jubilant hoot tears my gaze from the fallen mage and to the converging squad. Their expressions of relief evident upon spotting a relatively uninjured but very grainy Inquisitor.

"You good, Boss?"

I give Bull's concern a lopsided; and maybe slightly woozy, smile and move to slog out of my little mound of sand. "I'm goo-" swaying and stumbling to the side, "nope. Going down." I get out before my knees promptly buckle and I plop to my ass.

I hang my head, feeling incredibly ill and faint. _Hot, it is so fucking hot._ The grouchy thought repeating over and over before blessedly cool fingers reach for me and seem to ease the queasiness. Their soothing touch combing the hair from my face and gently attempting to wipe some of the sand away.

"That was your definition of 'good'?" He expels an exasperated sigh. The unhappy tightness of Solas' expression remaining as hands lightly glide over my face. Their movement pausing when he looks behind to address the others. "The Inquisitor and Sera are showing signs of heat stroke. It would be best to linger here until nightfall."

"Who you callin' sick?! Cram your heat, I can go as long as anyone else."

"We wanted to get back to the prison. I'll make it." Tossing in to agree with Sera. I wasn't going to let myself be the reason we lagged behind.

"Then Blackwall and I will round up the scouts. Shouldn't take long and gives us a few hours extra rest." Bull states with a nod; utterly disregarding both Sera and I.

"This is as good a place as any." Slinging his shield over his shoulder and turning to head to the horses with Iron Bull.

"Wonder if our murderous hosts were kind enough to pack any brandy..." Dorian muses, sparkling lavender illuminating his hand and staff as he shifts his attention to the dead littering the ground.  

"Wha-Hey!" Crossly marching after the warriors at being blatantly ignored.  

"We said we could keep going. The plan was-"

"Rejected." He calmly supplies with a firm hand on my elbow to help me to my feet. And merely offering a raised brow at the grumpy huff directed at him from being treated like a petulant child.

He leaves me in the shade of the nearest tent after seeing that I was settled. Withdrawing to aid Dorian gather the fallen and attend to our mounts. Left alone to sit in a slumped heap, I grudgingly conceded that I did feel pretty terrible but I wasn't about to let Thighs know he was right.

I doubt I'd been seated long before Sera tiredly lumbers to flop down on the other side of the tent. Sagging miserably and dragging a forearm across her brow, she looks up and rakes glazed eyes over me.

"I look as bad as you don't I? Shit-balls, my head feels like its stuffed with angry bees." Collapsing back with a dramatic groan, she rolls into a ball and drowsily mumbles, "Don't tell Elfy Breeches I said that. Turd is smug enough as it is."

Dizzy as I was, her response still makes me snort. However my humor is short lived as I bring my knees up to bow my head. The pounding migraine becoming a riotous parade in my skull that was refusing to be forgotten. Struggling to remain huddled in a wretched lump while I waited for Dorian and Solas to return, the muscle cramps from the heat making me want to do nothing but lie down.

A cold, wet cloth is draped over my hunched head, drawing my attention up. Consolingly, Dorian pats my ragged hair then walks to do the same for Sera and take a seat close to her. Concern written on his features as he studies her resting form.

Solas enters soon enough, moving to hand a waterskin to Dorian before propping his staff against a crate and settling to recline beside me. "You will feel better if you sleep." Voice soft so as not to disturb Sera.

"What about you and Dorian?" Stretching out to lay next to him, having no reason to argue since I was going to clonk out whether I wanted too or not.

"The others should return soon."

Exhausted, I pull off my gloves and reach to clasp the hand idly petting my head. Hugging him to my breast and finally letting unconsciousness drag me down as I curl towards his comforting presence.

~

The interior of the tent was nearly pitch black when I awoke. The faint moonlight peaking in providing little in the way of  illumination. I may have the body of an Elf but the physical prowess and night vision were nonexistent. With only my human sight to rely on, slight confusion surfaces on where I was and where the others had gone before I hear the indistinct chatting of the team outside. And I sleepily grin with the realization I wasn't alone but instead snuggled against a warm body.

_Even sick and blacked-out I find a way to molest him._

The grin widening as I spread my fingers to better stroke naked skin. Enjoying the feel of smooth flesh beneath my wandering palm as tunic and under-armor are shoved farther up by its exploration. I bite my lip, arching against Solas in desire while muscles flex and tighten under me.

Pressing close, I intend to kiss the underside of his jaw but happily change course when his chin angles down to capture my mouth. Caught by surprise as I always was by the soft fullness of his lips, their touch holding an electrifying magnetism that never failed to leave me putty in his hands and wanting more.

Eagerly I meet each thrust of his tongue as my mouth is ravished with skillful expertise, rubbing along the muscled thigh nestled between my own with more insistence while I slide my hand down his stomach. Trailing over toned skin to teasingly skimming my fingers under the waistband of his leggings.

Pulling my lips from the hungry glide of his, I lower down his body to trace the path of my hand with my mouth. Wanting to show his body the appreciation I had been unable to in my haste to have him.  Brushing nibbled kisses over his ribs, uncaring of the hint of sweat as I lick and bite my way over his belly. My hand slipping further down to stroke his straining cock as lips greedily taste and travel past his navel.

Muscles contract beneath my seeking mouth, the sound of Solas' accelerated breathing reaching me as a hand gently fists in my hair. " _Vhenan..._ behave." The voice deepened with desire and subtle rocking of his hips belying his words.

I tug the waist of his pants lower with my free hand, moving to take the broad crown in my mouth when the plan it horribly interrupted.

"Yes, please _vhenan_ , behave." Dorian drolly comments from somewhere in the darkness. The body underneath me instantly tenses and I drop my forehead in embarrassed amusement on Solas' hip. Feeling intense heat suffusing my face from getting caught like a teenager.

"Seconded." Sera wearily chips in.

Laughing outright now, I sit up. Helping to blindly straighten his leggings and running a hand over his thigh in regret before settling back from him.

"Way to cock-block, Dorian." I jokingly call.  

"And I will unapologetically do it again, my friend. As close as we all are, that is one thing that shall maintain its air of mystery."

"HA!" Both Sera and I answer simultaneously as Solas' harried sigh drifts through the tent.


	49. Chapter 49

Sprinting across the catwalk, I leap from the battlements as a sphere of lightning is pitched.

"RETURN TO SENDER DICKWAD!" Shooting the energy back with a wide sweep of my claymore before folding into a tumble as I land in the bailey below.

Iron Bull's assumption Echoback Fort would likely cross our path out of the valley had been correct. Its crumbling sandstone walls blending into the mountainside had been impossible to distinguish in the chilly darkness. Sadly for me, brief flickers of torchlight as men patrolled dilapidated ramparts had alerted us of its presence. And once known; Bull, Sera, and I had made quick work of scaling the rocky face to a collapsing wall above while the others with scouts in tow attacked from the front. The three of us only pausing long enough for me to hang over the side to materialize a Spirit Blade prior to unleashing mayhem.

Being my expert covert self, we had gotten quite far before our existence was noticed. Accomplishing a formidable dent of one to their ranks before shouts of alarm filled the night. Which was how I now found myself rolling into a crouch and dashing to finish off the mage stunned by his own spell. The splendor and quality of his gold and ivory robes indicating he was likely the illustrious Servis.

He turns to his back as I skid to a halt beside him, raising my blade high for a downward chop while hands lift to shield himself. "Wait! Wait! I can help you! I can help you!"

I hesitate, the massive weapon hovering inches from his pleading hands, my eyes narrowing in thought. _There were people in the sitting for judgment that could be converted to agents...Was he one? Shit, I can't remember...Did any of those guys actually have a bad consequence for turning them? Fuck, should've read the war table outcomes. But that's assuming he's one of them and swaying people isn't something that's been changed with my presence here..._

Dozens of questions and possible 'what if' results race through my mind as I consider the tanned face staring up at me. Debating on the pros of letting him live and trying to determine what benefit he posed to me specifically.

Seeing the inner battle waging, Servis hurriedly elaborates, "I smuggle artifacts, some _powerful_ artifacts. Not all of them made it back to Corypheus. If you let me live, they will be the Inquisition's."

"This wanker deserves arrows." Sera hisses in loathing as the others make their way to join us. "Well? What are you waiting for? We're not really going to listen to this drivel are we?"

"Relics aren't the only thing I offer!" Recognizing I was the person to win over, he keeps his eyes on me. "I have connections--deep connections, within Tevinter. I'm owed quite a few favors. Let me work for you and I can not only get you artifacts, but access to influence within Tevinter."

"You would turn from your master so readily?" His calm voice sounding as if he might as well be commenting on the weather. However I caught the cold calculation with which he studied the mage as Solas moved to stand behind me.

"Who cares? You're not actually considering this are you, Inky? He's one of them! A blithering nob who tramples on the little people! How you think he gets all those fancy tools?"

Though he casts a nervous glance at Sera's clear anger, he remained shrewdly stoic. Answering Solas' query honestly. "I was hired by a third party. I owe no allegiance to Corypheus or those fanatics blindly following him."

_...familiar...this sounds vaguely familiar..._

With a flick, Spirit Blade vanishes and I shift to crouch beside him. Tugging the horned cowl from his head to better see his features. Only the barest twitch betraying his uncertainty at my actions but bravely he met the unwavering gaze scrutinizing him. Elbows resting on my knees, I silently squat before him, disregarding the huffs of frustration from Sera.

"Or perhaps there are... _other_...ways your Worship desires to use me?" Servis ventures when I remain quiet.

"Careful, lest you overplay your hand." Comes the icy response from behind me.

Smirking from Solas' composed delivery of his warning, I finally speak. "Doubtful you could hope to compare. No, I want something else from you. I don't care about relics and artifacts. I desire tablets, tomes, scrolls; anything over a thousand years old. Think you can use that clever mind of yours to procure my request?"

Amid the annoyed exclamation the proposal triggers, Servis raises a brow cockily at my challenge. "An interesting choice and not a task easily accomplished. However, I am not your average smuggler. So yes, I can acquire what you want."

Bobbing my head in acknowledgment, I stand and pivot to address the scouts. "Take him back to Griffon Keep. Let Leliana know she has a new asset. She can determine how best to handle him." With a salute, they move to do as instructed. Positioning themselves in a close circle to escort him out of the ruins.

Feeling relatively confident about my choice, I take in the range of emotions from the team as I wave us out of the fort. Other than Sera's obvious disagreement on Servis' fate, the others either seemed indifferent or okay with the decision. Though, I certainly didn't miss the evident approval in Solas' eyes at how I had dealt with Servis and my preference of payment.

While the option of more powerful crap was a cool idea solely to see what the things did, they likely wouldn't help me. Information was more important at this point and the best way to get it was reading whatever random ramblings and text I could then try to determine where the grains of truth lay. Unfortunately I would probably require someone to decipher anything that's found. While I trusted Solas never to lie, I wasn't stupid in thinking he wouldn't hold important key facts to himself. Meaning I would need to ask Larry to translate too just in case.

Puffing out a breath at all the duplicitousness afoot, I walk with the team to our waiting mounts. The night still early enough that we could safely continue on before needing to stop for the day. Fingers reach for mine, briefly squeezing in a sign of comfort. I return the gesture, shifting close to place my head on his bicep as we walk so he wouldn't see the regret in my eyes.

~  

"The Veil, she is hissy here."

"Perhaps a bit bored instead?" Dorian offers.

"You sure it's not prissy?" Blackwall twists to ask.

"I was going with tangy." Iron Bull counters.

"Hold on, hold on. Sensing...sense-y-ing harder...nope. Hissy."

I resolutely keep a straight face. Pressing my lips together tightly to suppress a laugh at the sight of Solas' shoulders sagging and subsequent eye roll at being trolled.

Our company of six hadn't been in the Wastes long, a few hours at most, and had yet to leave the wide gorge that presumably emptied into a vast expanse of desert for which the area was named. Harding was awaiting our arrival upon first entering the ravine and provided an idea of the happenings going on in the region.

Informing us her scouts were successful in locating a set of Dwarven ruins that the Venatori were busily excavating with the help of their slaves. Not necessarily anything surprising to her, until it was coupled with the fact said ruins were sitting on the surface. An occurrence highly unusual and to her knowledge, unprecedented.

Following this, scouts were dispatched to shadow Venatori carriers to pinpoint any other sites they might be interested in. A wise precaution on Harding's part since they had uncovered two more.

After preparing a map of the general positions of the Venatori encampments-a difficult feat considering the sheer enormity of the open desert apparently-Harding had sent us on our way with crossed fingers and a hopeful grin.

Our scenery of sparse boulder cover and what might be the Thedas equivalent of Ironbark trees end. The gorge opens into a ridiculously immense space that seemed infinite. Sand, sand, and a shit-ton of more sand went on for as far as the eye could see. Thanks to the eerie brightness of the starlit night, dunes and small mountainous formations are spotted in the distance but even that didn't make me feel any better.

Bringing my horse to a halt, I look out at the whole lot of nothing spread out before us. "Nutsack...."  

"Look how far it goes. You could ride for miles."

"Wow! There's so much...nowhere!" Sera proclaims in astonishment.

"If you told me this place never ends, I'll believe you."

"The stars will guide us out of here." Solas suggests. "I hope." He clarifies in a mutter that has me turning and lifting both eyebrows at him.

"We haven't even started traversing this monstrosity and I'm already hallucinating." Dorian jests and points off to our left.

A figure kneels in the sand, praying from the looks of it, though it was hard to tell from so far away. With a nudge, we wheel our horses to investigate. Someone out and alone in this barren wasteland was highly suspicious. Especially as we drew near, no steed or gear of any kind was within sight.

Expressions varying from curious to wary cross their faces as the team dismounts before the bowing woman. Her clothes are those of a Chantry sister but as she slowly stands, the stitched emblem of the Chantry is absent. Fueling the mystery further as something prods the back of my mind. I squint and bite my lip, trying to think of why I should know this...

She speaks, her voice heavily accented like those from Orlais. "Ours shall be the burden of knowledge, to take into the Earth and prove us worthy.-"

"That's the Chant. Are we...supposed to respond or something?" Her brow furrowing at the unknown woman.

"-The righteous shall carry the Maker's word to every corner of his house.-"

"I do not think she means us harm, but something is not right here."

Something clicks at Solas' perplexed assertion and with a whoop, I triumphantly point at her.  "Spirit!"

"Ah, of course." His expression instantly smoothing while the trance-like stare the Spirit had evaporates and snaps to me.

_Oh...oh, that's never good..._

Bracing myself for a bout of fanaticism when pure devotion and bliss fill her features. Her bronze fingers clutch both of my own in hers as she looks deeply into my eyes.

"A child of the Creators, by their Will shall we be saved or destroyed. Waters of the Fade flowing to the Realm of Oppression fo-"

"Whoa! Alrighty then..." Gently extracting my hands from her grasp. "Let's reel the crazy back in..." _No Creator business Spirit of...whatever the fuck you are. Calling me a Creator is a no no._ Keeping my face appearing as though I thought I was speaking with a lunatic while my eyes sternly met hers.

Undeterred, she smiles warmly, lifting her hands to reverently cup my face. "Do not Falter, for a Creator is never wrong. Salvation or Damnation. They will be our Harbingers. In the absence of _their_ light, shadows will thrive."

Her touch remains as dazzling green envelops her body. In anger I witness the sparkling particles of the Fade suspend timelessly before me, their brilliance mocking me as they vanish. In their place a bow rests upon the sand.

Hands clench into fists at my sides as I stare down at the gift with gritted teeth. Rage and denial filling me the longer I stood. "Sera, it's yours. If you don't want it then leave it." Spinning on my heel, I walk back to my horse without a backwards glance.

A hand on my elbow stops me before I can saddle up. Solas' body crowding mine as he eyes me with worry. His voice soft to allow us a measure of privacy.

"Her words have upset you, Akira. Why?"

"I'm tired, Solas. I'm tired of speeches of Fate and Destiny. Tired of the idea that Gods, a Creator, the Maker--fuck, whomever!--is supposed to decide everything. That people are only put somewhere to do something special and they have no choice but to be that stupid special snowflake. I don't want it, Solas..." In crushing weariness I lean my forehead against his chest, "I don't want it..." I sadly say.

Loving arms wrap around me, surrounding me with their strength. "Whatever else may be ascribed to you, _vhenan_ , you are always you." He tenderly declares.

I bury my face in his tunic, tightly hugging him to me as I swallow against the sudden unexpected tears his words bring.

_If you knew what I was, would you still look at me with such love? Could you still tell me I am only me with such affection or would I become more to you as well?_

Fighting to hold onto my determination as the questions whispered unbidden in my mind. Hoping I would never know their answer.  

~

Night was giving way to the dawn with no indication of a Dwarven tomb or Venatori camp in sight. Knowing the light of day would usher in lethal temperatures, we skirt closer to the mountainside that had been our constant companion. Having determined these ruins would be the best one to start with since it was supposed to be nestled on the edge of the Wastes.

Exhausted backs had begun to slouch and it appeared it was near time the halt for the day be called when Bull silently raises a hand. Gesturing to a portion of the rocky ridge that looked exactly the same as the rest, the five of us watch, trying to figure what we were supposed to be seeing. Then there it is. The brief flare of a torch that I would have assumed was merely imagined if not for five other pairs of eyes having spotted it too.

"There's no way to come at that stealthily is there?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

A good few minutes pass in contemplation before Bull shakes his head and the others unhappily agree. Knowing we couldn't risk the horses being injured, we find a tiny niche in the boulders to leave our mounts. Grimly strapping weapons and pocketing potions as we prepared to face an unknown number that had the added advantage of cover and the high ground.

I stand off to the side, materializing a Spirit Blade and readying myself for a probable incredibly shitty day when fingers stroke a lock of my hair in a faint touch. Goose-bumps rise as warm breath licks over my ear, sending a shiver racing through me.

"Stay within my sight." Voice a seductive whisper.

I catch him before he can move away, tugging him down for a kiss with my free hand to the back of his neck. Drawing steadying courage from the firm glide and pull of his lips. Quickly losing my concentration of Spirit Blade as I sink into the intoxicating brush of his mouth, lifting on tiptoe to deepen the contact and reaching for him with a now empty hand.  

"We're not dying today, Inky. Let him up for air. _Yeesh._ " Rolling her eyes at the display and striding out of the shelter of the rocks.

Reluctantly I release him, trailing my fingers over his jaw before following Sera. Having to spend a few minutes to create another weapon while moving to take up next to Iron Bull. With Blackwall included, the three of us form a protective line in front of the mages and Sera. Placing ourselves as meat shields for the people capable of keeping us alive if things went tits up.

"Everyone ready for some Vint spanking?" Bull challenges with a roll of his head and flex of his back.

Hoisting the claymore to rest on my shoulder, "aye, aye sir! Ready to whip the naughty!"

"Now you just made it weird, Boss." Shaking his head at me amid the groans and sighs from the others.   


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY!

The greys and blues of night yield to the light of dawn, its faint glow crawling across the sand before us. Our footfalls resolute and features unflinching as they carry us farther from the point of safe return. Fingers flexing and eyes warily scanning the craggy ridge, waiting for the inevitable first contact.

"I could drop magic over the boulders, thin the herd a little." I venture, imagining how perfect a missile strike would be for this instance.

Whether it would alert them of our presence or not wasn't really a concern considering there was no chance six people marching over open terrain hadn't already been spotted. At least hurling energy grenades behind the rocks could eliminate or injure some of the enemy lurking and bidding their time.

"Hold on. Didn't Harding mention the Venatori were using slaves?" His shield lowering the tinniest bit as he looks to me.

"True. No telling where they're being held Boss. Innocents might get caught in a blind assault."

I say nothing in response, wisely choosing to keep my opinion to myself and mouth uncharacteristically shut. A choice between murdering innocent people or ensuring my team came out whole was an easy one. I would kill without remorse if it meant preventing injury to the others and never look back. However everyone was about saving the most amount of people with the fewest causalities. So as long as shit didn't hit the fan, I would do as they desired and not risk hurting any possible prisoners.

Noise, like a soft whistle comes. Its pitch becoming sharper before an arrow abruptly sails past. Our strides never waver even as our bodies tense at the sudden attack. Continuing to press forward while the air rapidly fills with arrows and bolts. Instinctively I angle my claymore to the ground in an A; using the wide blade as a shield even though the sparkling energy of barriers surrounded us.

Stone stairs cleverly camouflaged within the jagged rocks quickly congests with men and women in varying states of undress. Their number spreading out on the walkway at our approach. The colorful array of their robes and even dull gleam of their armor providing us with a route in which to reach the heart of the campsite.

Perhaps close enough now, spears of flame and light are hurled to race across the sand. Their energy joining the steady bombardment of wood being fired as I Fade Step slightly ahead of our procession.  Twisting my body for a swing of the massive weapon in my hands, batting a spell straight back before pivoting to send another. Phasing in short jerks to stay in front of the others, rotating back and forth to swiftly return as much magic as I could. My automatic blocking attempt during the short bout against Erimond and my unintentional return to sender against Servis having given me the idea.  

"Woo! _EAT LIGHT SABER JUSTICE! STAR WARS HOOO!!_ " Keeping myself in constant motion as the distance became less and less. "SUCK IT! HAVE SOME ULTIMATE THEDAS DODGEBALL!"  Dropping a woman who wasn't smart enough to remain near a barrier.

With possibly a hundred yards until the fat stairwell, I Fade Step. Devouring the scant space in seconds, sliding to halt at the base of the stairs and awaiting enemies. My body turning to sweep the claymore in a broad arc, channeling magic to its razor edge as its feather light weight becomes burdensome with but a thought. Driving my hips to fight against the heavy drag of bodies being cleaved and slicing through barriers. Experiencing a twinge of discomfort in my back at the substantial resistance but forcing the follow-through anyway.   

Like a wave the first surge of opposition falls on the now bloody stone. Their number quickly being replaced as Venatori rush down from above.

Hastily I trot up the steps to meet them, unwilling to lose ground. Dissolving Spirit Blade to avoid hitting a friendly as I evade a downward chop and deliver a left uppercut to the man's testicles. Tossing the hunched figure to tumble behind me with a vicious tug of his shoulder while moving higher.

Bodies crash and topple at my feet as magic and arrow  find their descending targets. Wetly piercing and slamming into flesh while the clash of steel echoes from the warriors trailing behind. Rapidly changing the staircase into a chaotic scene of carnage as we try to press on.  

I hop to the top of the first landing and step within a woman's slash. My fingers catching her forearm and grabbing her shoulder to pull her down for a knee strike. The initial contact knocks the wind from her and I adjust my hold to bring my knee to her face. She curses in pain, blood spurting from a broken nose as I shove her away. Using that momentum to backpedal and duck under an axe meant for my clavicle.

The man's exaggerated hack swings wide and leaves him open. I waste no time moving into his space, rotating my hips to drive an enhanced punch into a plated sternum. Audible cracks of bone snapping and metal being crushed comes as he staggers and drops his weapon to clutch the dented armor. Impossibly, the soldier remains standing. It is the touch of cold steel cruelly seizing my wrist that penetrates the shocked stupor and I recognize the smart thing would've been to do something.

In an explosion of pain, a gauntleted fist slams into my cheek, collapsing me instantly. Only the firm grasp on my wrist holds me to my knees. Like a limp ragdoll I hang as he pulls back for another hit. His brutal blow going so far as breaking fragile bone when plate meets face before the combined assault of magic and axe stops him.

I'm thrown sideways when the body gripping me lurches from the strikes. Unable to do more than stupidly lay in a dazed fog of agony upon the stone until strong fingers bodily haul me off to the side. Utterly disoriented and vision swimming, I blink owlishly at Blackwall as he props me against one of the boulders lining the staircase. His protective presence remaining to loom above me, bashing eager assailants until the mages and Sera move to take over.

Their muffled questions of concern don't even register while I shake my head, blinking hard in an attempt to clear the spots from my vision. Feeling an excruciating throb in my face as I gradually come back from having my bell rung.

Clumsily I try to get up. The reeling floundering only succeeding in making me look ridiculous before I flop back down. Hands waving awkwardly, I bumble my way to an ungainly crouch. Using the boulder as a crutch to stand amid the worried glances spared from the others while I struggled to steady myself.

The squad had made quite a chip in the enemy while I was down. Not nearly as many foes were lingering in our path and the warriors were able to push forward with greater ease.  Our advance began to pick up speed with the fewer number and woozily I trail behind. Sticking with the mages to provide support when there was a wide gap to avoid accidentally shooting someone.

Bull and Blackwall crest the top of the stairs ahead of us. Mysteriously we witness as both men freeze for a second before disappearing from sight with bellows of anger. Much sturdier now and feeling moderately back to normal other than the intense burning throb in my face, I Fade Step after them. Ready to jump in and bring the smack down. Fully prepared to do it when I bound up the steps but stop short at the scene that was awaiting.

Men and women wearing rags lay upon the sand, their throats viciously slit. Cowardly their hands had been restrained even though they had already been in a position of offering futile resistance as heavy chains linked each body together by their ankles. The Venatori's last 'fuck you' no doubt when it became apparent their camp would fall.

A leather clad man rests near the last slave, indicating one of the warriors had brought down the Venatori responsible. However by the looks of things, they hadn't been fast enough.

Now both men knelt beside the prone form of the final prisoner, trying to do something for the dying woman. Even from this distance I spot the telltale crimson seeping between Bull's fingers as he vainly clamps a large palm over the woman's neck. Endeavoring to stem the flow of blood while Blackwall gently held her hand  in an attempt to give comfort.

"They need help up here!" I yell over my shoulder, _tsking_ at the waste.

At my call, Dorian and Solas dash up the steps. Hurrying to aid the woman when they see the situation that was waiting for them. My strides are more sedate as I amble to stand behind their crouched figures, knowing there was nothing I could bring to the table. I scan my gaze over the slaughter, surveying the gore with a tired sigh while the mages sit back in disappointment after a moment.

 _What was the point of being careful if they were just going to be killed anyway?_ Shaking my head at the squandered opportunity.  

While the team eyed the grim result of our interference with disgust, loathing, remorse, surprise, righteous fury; I was busy thinking of what could have happened if there had been more Venatori. Someone could've been wounded; someone could've died and for what? I would have stayed my hand for people who were likely going to be murdered the second things went South anyway. It didn't sit well with me. It was one thing to risk myself; it was my choice, my consequence to live with. But it was quite another to risk my teammates. Especially if it was something that was easily avoidable such as now.

Obvious regret mars his brow as Solas rises. His lithe body turning away from the tragic end of the Venatori prisoners and moving to stand before me. Anger on my behalf flares in his eyes, replacing the darkness of regret as he softy skims the tips of his fingers along my jaw. Flooding me with warmth while the heat of his magic invades pained flesh.

_Or maybe it has more to do with you._

I look to the breathtaking grey studying me with tenderness. Greys that carried the weight of a world within their depths. And I was afraid.  

Afraid of the unsettling whisper and what it would signify. And much as I didn't want to admit it, I could not deny the likely truth of it. The prospect of Solas being wounded in the defense of another or due to my hesitation to act instantly caused a visceral reaction of vehement rebellion. Its frightening strength hinting that perhaps I was already too late in guarding my heart.    

Foolishly I had permitted myself to become attached to the point I wouldn't chance endangering him or allow anyone else to do it. It was a scary and worrying realization to have. Covering his hand with my much smaller one, I turn into the loving touch. Placing a kiss on the center of his palm as I processed the distressing knowledge. Suddenly terrified to discover how intensely the affection ran and what I would be asked to sacrifice because of it.  

Silently I turn from the love and gore, needing to escape the thoughts and dooming emotions. Walking to ruins that would command my attention and take me away from feelings that shouldn't exist.

Fractured pillars and large slabs of granite similar to gravestones encompass the spacious area before us. The presence of tents and campfires laying between the columns or within the cover of colossal depictions of proud Dwarves seems almost disrespectful in their occupancy.

Cautiously I stride through the sandy graveyard, on the alert for Venatori in case some had decided to hide. Heading for the rocky formation crowned with three of the towering statues before beautiful light flickering in my peripheral draws my notice. Pretty bluish green flames burn brightly in a brazier hanging upon one of the broken pillars. The unexpected sight of Veilfire gives me pause and promptly spinning to spot three others sparsely spread out within the burial ground.

_Shit...what does that mean?_

I mean, it would have been bizarre for the Venatori to excavate the site and do absolutely nothing with it. So I probably shouldn't have been so shocked but now it begged the question of where the key fragment was or if it was somehow still in the tomb. Fingers unconsciously tap against my thigh as I consider. Pondering if I would need to do some body searching and if so, how to explain the necessity of it.

Seeing the direction of my gaze, "what kind of fire is that?" Sounding nervous as she eyes the unnatural blaze.

"It is called Veilfire. It is a form of sympathetic magic, a memory of flame that burns in this world where the Veil is thin."

"Uh huh...So not fire. Great. Well let's not go playing with it, yeah?" Giving Solas and Dorian a pointed look as she slings her bow across her back.

"Let's see if the Venatori found anything." Getting a kick out of Sera's expression and purposely leading us closer to one of the flames on the way to the tomb.

The amusement takes a nose dive however when I stand before the ruin's entrance. Its angular doorway well concealed by the shade of the rock if not for the Veilfire bringing awareness of its existence. Sighing at the door that wouldn't be open or Veilfire that wouldn't be lit if the Venatori hadn't already been through the tomb. More than a little discouraged now, I take a minute to ready myself for the very real possibility that nothing awaited us inside and I would be fondling corpses soon before I enter the stale gloom.

"Wonder how many traps the Venatori went through...A tomb on the surface would need something to keep robbers at bay." Bull idly muses as we travel down a long slanted hallway illuminated by glyphs.

A sense of unease and confusion was prodding me when the corridor bottoms out into a bare circular room. The feeling only increasing at spying a short, raised dais with what appeared to be some sort of holder standing empty in the center of the room. Bold engravings line the ceiling for all the good they did. Gaping sections were crumbled away and the parts still 'legible' looked like someone had a massive stroke while in the middle of chiseling. Then just shrugged with an _eh_ and left it that way.

Puffing out a breath and pursing my lips, I walk to the only alternate passage, trying to figure out what was so off about this place. Hearing footsteps shadowing, I glance behind to see Sera and Dorian trailing after me. Not minding the company, I press on to see where this would take us. All the while wondering when something here was going to begin to look even vaguely familiar.

Brows rise and eyes widen when I step within the lustrous space our hall had dumped us in. Twin whistles sound next to me as we take in the piles of gold overflowing from chests and across the floor. Priceless jewels, goblets, trinkets; everything seemed as though it had been thrown without a care onto the tiny mountains.

And it was suspiciously just sitting here...

More curious then anxious, we move farther in, raking our gazes over the vast wealth left untouched with disbelief. Though the others may be eyeing the stockpile with innocent inquisitiveness, mine was searching for anything that could potentially serve as a key fragment. Common sense dictated if it was still within the tomb, it would be here. And I was not enjoying my odds of finding the stupid thing in this sea of coins and sparklies.

Dwarven engravings similarly found in the first room line this one as well. Their symbols in better shape and possibly easier to decipher for those fluent in Dwarven or whatever gibberish it was in. With evident excitement Dorian scrutinizes the cleaner writings, tapping his chin with a finger as he leisurely follows their path. I leave him to it and instead turn my focus to a table buckling under the weight of bejeweled treasure. Its clutter consisting of objects as opposed to gems and money, giving me hope that perhaps I might get lucky.

"Weird...Why's this here then? Doesn't look flashy or shiny." Bending to hoist what appeared to be a thin, gnarled club in the air and waving it for us to see.

Dorian twists to regard Sera's trophy, his eyes brightening with interest. "Doubtful that whatever we find here is simply what it appears to be. I don't see the ancient Dwarves tossing trinkets willy-nilly into a tomb unless it was something important."  

Scrunching her nose at the stick in her hand, "probably rig--What the frigg'?!" Sera exclaims as she vigorously shakes her arm. "It-it's not dropping! Get it off! Get it off!" Pushing against the wood with her foot in an attempt to get rid of it. "Shitballs! Shit! Arsetits! Fartknockers! Shit!"

Dorian and I rush to her side, trying for calm while making sure to avoid touching the rod of weird when the jangle of coins shifting drifts from behind us. A noise that shouldn't be since the only way into the room was in front of us. As one we freeze and slowly turn to look in the direction the clatter of coins was originating from. About to blast the treasure piles to kingdom come until the sound of squeaked clicks and bubbly chirps halts us.

We glance at each other in uncertainty before four nugs suddenly pop forth from somewhere within the cache. Our bodies relaxing as we blink in surprise at the hairless animals happily loping right for us.

Sera gently nudges one back that was rising on its hind legs against her. "They're like fat...fish-faced rats. I hate rats. And fish." Squinting down at the little creature looking at her in sadness, "don't stare at me. Shoo, shoo. _Pffph, pffph._ "

Fascinated and since they seemed strangely friendly, I gingerly pick one up. Lifting it with more confidence when it doesn't mind being handled. Finally able to see a nug up close, I didn't know whether to call them disturbingly ugly or horribly cute. The hairless critters were riding that tricky middle ground of being so odd they were adorable with their rabbit-like ears but mole-ish features...At least their skin was soft though and it was fun to rub their fatty wrinkles.     

Dorian shakes his head at me and practically cringes away from the animals trying to get near him. "I had no idea nugs possessed such creepy little feet." Shuddering as he eyes the nug in my arms. "The stuff of nightmares."  

"What? You mean these feet?" Flapping a leg at Dorian and leaning my body to bring it closer to him.

" _Ugh!_ They're like tiny baby hands that have been stretched." Giving a _nuh-uh_ expression as he puts distance between us.

Laughing evilly, I set the nug down as two more come out to join us. "Guess there's a hole somewhere. Feel your grip loosening?" I ask Sera who was busy pushing nugs away while sandwiching her hand under her armpit and trying to force the separation.

Breathing heavily, she jiggles her arm hard before huffing. "No. Stupid friggin' stick is sticking stronger than boils on arses." Glancing down to shove another nug, she does a double take and her brow creases. "Aren't there more of them? Like _a lot_ more."

Eyeing the growing number and watching as others continued to trickle over to converge on us, "this... probably isn't good. I might have an idea of ho-" Loud noise, like the sound of flesh slapping tile cuts Dorian off. Only it sounded like it was hundreds of pieces of bare skin and not one.

"The fuck is that?" Turning towards the noise just as the echoing rumble of untold clicks and chirps are unmistakably heard.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side Notes:
> 
> ROUS: Princess Bride reference; Rodents of Unusual Size

"This stonework is old. And I don't mean just a couple ages old. We're talking _old_." His gaze roving over the room with a critical eye from beside Solas.

"How can you tell? Seems like any other Dwarven ruin we've come across." Lifting a small chunk of ceiling and scratching his beard as he studied the piece, trying to see what Bull did. "Looks the same to me."

"You think we don't have Dwarven ruins up in Par Vollen? My old Tamassran saw this place, she'd-"

"~AAAHHHHH!!"

The trio whirls around at the shouts, moving to dash down the passage where the three had disappeared when Sera bursts into the room with the rest following soon after.

"RUN, YOU DAFT TITS!" Not breaking stride in her race to the exit.

"IT ACTUALLY WASN'T ME THIS TIME!" Vanishing close behind Sera.

"FEET! REACHING, GRASPING FEET!"

They gawk in stunned confusion at the behavior, glancing between one another in question before a rolling rumble builds from the direction they came. Jaws drop and eyes widen in shock as its source becomes visible.

" _Fenedhis!_ "  - "Andraste's bullocks!"  - "Hot damn!" Swiftly about facing and sprinting after the others while the thunderous beat of feet dogged their escape. The echoing squeaks and bubbly chirps of legions of nugs chasing behind spurring them faster and out into the morning sun. Dorian hastily douses the Veilfire near the door when the last member darts out, releasing a thankful sigh when it sluggishly seals shut once again. And we're left blessedly alone amidst the gravestones.

"Alright, who brought the punting targets?" Bull jokes as the gears lock with an audible click.

"I've never seen that many nugs in my life. It was like watching waves of fat come charging at me." Flabbergasted astonishment in his voice as Blackwall stares at the entrance.

"This! It's this stupid not-stick with stupid magic!" Frantically trying to detach herself by stepping on it and yanking as hard as she could. "Let go you dumb turd poker!"

With a cross of his arms and a finger to his lips, Solas calmly studies the thrashing taking place in front of him as if he was examining art in a gallery. "It appears to carry an enchantment to snare the unsuspecting." Sounding thrilled about its discovery but I didn't miss the wide berth he still gave it. "There is nothing to worry over. The charm is mild, Sera, its pull is purely benign. We will determine a way to separate you."

"Say that after you've had fish rats clamoring all over you like you're cheese! Giving you their creepy soulless stares!"

"Lucky for you, Sera, I may have an answer to your blubberous admirers. Before our besiegement, I was able to translate part of those odd inscriptions. Seems this tomb's proprietor buried a staff made to attract 'the majesties of the earth'." Dorian raises his palms at the scoffs and snickers his announcement causes. "I know, I know. You're not the only one puzzling over the sanity -or eyesight- of whoever thought to craft our fun little relic. However, the staff is supposed to lead the wielder to Valos Atredum; 'the ancestors' blessing'."

"That's not helpful, Dorian! This _val-oos ass-dumb_ or whatever don't mean piss!"

"By itself, no. But according to the runes, they left a failsafe behind for those unwilling to kneel for this blessing. One simply has to 'gift' it to someone prepared to-"

Not even waiting for Dorian to finish, Sera spins, "Inky! You're nutters and always doing crazy shite! Here! A gift!"

Backing away with a _oh, hell no_ expression, "Whoa! Hold on now!" Quickly Fade Stepping behind Solas and using him as an elven shield. "Gift it to Solas! He loves ancient, highly dubious shit!" Giving him a spank and _go get 'em_ chin toss when he glances at me in disbelief.

Vehemently shaking his head, "No, Sera-"

"You constantly go on about history! Well, here you are! I gift Dwarf-y history!" Waving the gnarled staff and moving to foster it on him.

Seeing I wasn't to be the recipient of her present anymore, I phase away to safely stand alongside the others watching in amusement. Letting Solas fend for himself against Sera's determination to rid herself of the ridiculous weapon.   

Rearing back and lifting his hands, "I decline." Solas firmly states.

"It's old, stupid, and magic! Everything you like!" Persistently following his retreat and pressing the staff towards him.

He slips his own from his shoulder, using it to ward her off and stay out of touching distance.  "There are other alternati-"

"Just take it!" Flailing against the gentle push and vainly attempting to reach him.

"No, I will not. Sera, this behavior is-"

From our position by the door, we try our best to smother our mirth at a frustrated Solas desperately holding a windmilling Sera at bay with his staff. And succeed in failing miserably. Twin glares zing straight for us as our roars of laughter ring out. Their volume only growing louder at the looks of displeasure directed our way.

Wiping tears from his eye and still chuckling, "got to admit, it's pretty funny. At least from where we're standing. Not to worry, Sera, Dorian said something about kneeling. We do it and everything's good. It will be a great story to tell the ladies."

"And I'll buy the first round when we get back." Blackwall adds. "So, where do we find this 'blessing'?" Turning expectantly to Dorian.

"That...that is the problem." He answers sheepishly. "I don't know."

"What?!!" Her horrified cry the instant response to his revelation.

"Then it is fortunate one of us remained in the ceremonial chamber." His tone indicating he was still slightly irked by our amusement. "As degraded as the writings were, they made mention of a granted reward for those who wielded the key. Assuming your theory is correct, then the staff Sera holds is likely it."

Blackwall's brow furrows in thought at the description. "Wait, are you referring to that weird hole in the floor?" Earning a nod of affirmative from Solas.

"And past a swarm of naked ankle biters." Bull includes with a sigh. "Best not to dwell on how defenseless nugs are..."

I realize it the second it leaves Bull's mouth. If they were right about how to separate the staff and if we wanted back in the tomb, we were going to have to get through a virtual horde of nugs. Animals that were docile and other than being debatable in their attractiveness, hadn't done anything. Unlike with people, I actually loved animals and was hesitant to harm them.  

I had been lucky and avoided hurting anything during my time here. Allowing the others to handle the hunting and resolutely staying away from taking part. Though it had raised more than a few eyebrows from the team in the beginning, they had accepted it and not pushed. It certainly wasn't something I planned on starting and if I really had too, it especially wasn't going to be ROUS.

As the others were preparing a plan of action and readying to delve into the tomb once again, I decisively interrupt.

"No. I got it. It just has to go in that slit in the floor right?" Closing my eyes and extending my hand with a look of cringing distaste on my face, "Sera, I want your terrible gift."

Warm heat caresses my back as a body crowds close before gentle fingers grip my raised forearm. "That is unnecessary. I understand your reluctance, _vhenan._ And you needn't force yourself to join us."

I shake my head at the murmurs of agreement his words bring, needing to explain myself better. "We don't have to mess with the nugs at all. They pursue whomever has the staff right? Then someone just needs to lure them out enough to run past and deposit it inside. I'm the fastest here and least likely to get stuck. It's worth a try before we go full mass destruction on nugs." Turning my gaze back to Sera and motioning for her to go ahead.     

The hold tightens as grey eyes implore me to reconsider. "Perhaps it is better the staff changes hands as little as possible." Making a last ditch attempt to dissuade me.

With a relieved expression, Sera shifts to offer the rod but hesitates just out of reach. "You sure?" When I gesture with more insistence, there's suddenly the sensation of my palm being dragged forward and the slap of wood cementing to it. It felt like two strong magnets being drawn to each other and my disturbed whimper is instinctual at the contact.

 _"Urrggmm..._ Light it, light it." Keeping my arm straight out and not enjoying how...excited...the staff felt to be in my possession.

Everyone retreats to the side, clearing a path for what was sure to be a throng of nugs as Dorian lifts his hand to hover above the sconce. Giving me a nod before the brilliance of Veilfire flares with a flick of his wrist. The grind of stone and click of gears is almost immediately drowned out by happy chirps when the door slowly begins to rise. Startling gasps of incredulity from the squad at the sheer number of plump, wiggling bodies tumbling out in a flood. 

 _"Geh!"_ Fade Stepping farther out in the open and experiencing increasing apprehension when more and more continued to merrily gallop out of the tomb. Vaguely recognizing with a snort that I was now encountering what it felt like to be zerged by lard with monkey feet as I phased in a broad circle to gather them all together. And reasonably positive anyone watching from a bird's eye view would witness the equivalent of an ocean of rippling folds billowing after a hectic insect.

Observing the surge was dying down to a trickle, I Fade Step in a large arc to make my way back towards the door. "HOLY FUCK! HOW ARE THERE SO MANY OF YOuuu....!" Dodging around bodies and rushing to disappear down the corridor.

The bubbly coos and twitters rumble after her in a sea of bald wrinkles. Sedately loping past for what seemed liked ages before the last of the critters vanished into the gloom with an echoing squeak. Leaving each of them blinking cynically at what they had just seen.

"That was..."

"Like watching flour sacks try to run." Bull supplies for Blackwall. Receiving chuckles from the team at his jest. All except Solas that is.  

He stares down the passage with eyes never having left the corridor since the Inquisitor's entrance. His lips pressed in a hard line as he stood waiting. "She should have returned by now." Striding forward to follow her path without pausing for a response from the others.    

~

"HOLY SHIT! HOW ARE THERE SO MANY OF YOU!" Phasing as swiftly as I could to get down to the ceremonial chamber. My boots skid over the sandy dais in my hurry and I drop into a baseball slide. "Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit. Ininininininininin." Frantically trying to jab the staff into its holder before the swarm caught up. With an audible tick, I finally manage to thrust it home.

 _"Eh? The fu-"_ The metallic click becomes an ominous ring as blinding white light explodes from the staff to completely engulf the chamber in a flash. _"-ck!"_ Tears well in my eyes from the stinging intensity as I fruitlessly rub them to clear the spots from my vision. Beginning to freak out a little now that I was temporarily blind and knowing something had gone awry.

Again.

Gracelessly I stumble up, blinking rapidly as I tried to look around me. It's the noise that alerts me first that things were off. The unfathomable number of twitters and chirps was to be expected as there was an army of nugs after me. But the way they resounded was definitely wrong. It was if their calls were resonating from being in a vast space and not a moderately sized room. And the second? The smell of wet grass.

Last I checked, grass was sorely lacking in deserts and unless I had somehow missed it each time, there was none growing within the tomb.

I squint, hoping to take in as much as I can while the blots gradually bleed away. Anticipating getting swamped at any second by baby-like hands. ".... _whaaat...the hell...._ " I mumble upon being able to identify the scenery surrounding me.

The dais in which I stood and the gritty tile of the chamber floor were all that was left of the tomb. Where once glyphed walls enclosed the room, a wooded grotto brimming with lush greenery now took its place. Its walls seemingly misted away to yield to thriving vegetation cast in twilight. Fireflies lazily drift through the colossal cavern, bestowing an air of mystical beauty with their flickering glow. Light that bounced across the sharp angles of crystal statues scattered throughout the flourishing hollow. Their icy hue a glaring contrast to the rich green of this hidden refuge.

And a refuge it appeared to be. An untold quantity of squishy bodies frolicked and rolled within this vibrant oasis. My existence within their midst going entirely ignored as they went about their nug business. I spin in a slow circle, gaping in awe at the ludicrous amount all in one place before giving myself a firm mental shake to focus on the task at hand.

My attention turns to the gnarled staff shining with an eerie, ethereal light. Wondering what I was supposed to do with it. Although this space wasn't the Fade, I knew it was somewhere overflowing with magic. Its tingling presence wrapped around me so thickly I was starting to believe I might have the crap-tacular pleasure of experiencing what being sucked into a spell was like.

"fuck it." With a shrug I poke the Wand of Nug Love since it was doubtful things could get worse at this point. Crossing my fingers it was a simple matter of touching it again to reverse everything but not particularly expecting it to work.

When nothing happens; not even a blip, I poke it with more insistence and go so far as nudging it with my boot.

"Of course." I say with a sigh of defeat as it merely glows in silence at my prodding.   

Wearily massaging my neck, I step back. Studying the staff for a moment before releasing an annoyed puff and kneeling in front of it. Tapping my thigh while I waited for something-anything, to happen. Sucking my lips in and looking around when there continues to be a whole lot of nada.

"I kneel for thy blessing." Nothing. "Glory be to the Dwarves." No. "Glory be to the nugs?" Nope. "Nug love?" Nada. "Dwarf blessing! Dwarf nug blessing! Nug blessing! Go go nug staff! Nug power hoooo~! Nug domination! Nug overlords! Nug-pocalypse! _RARGH!!"_ Angrily wiping my hands down my face and tilting my head back in exasperation as my effort is proven to be for naught.

More than a tad irked now, I hop to my feet. Hands resting on my hips as I scan over the grotto once again. Either Dorian was wrong about bowing or the staff wasn't the thing I needed to pay homage too.

 _Better not be the goddamn nugs._ I think irritably. Though I was sorely tempted to try it in a second until I zero in on an animal trail. _Adventure!_ Striding for the path since there was little else I could do.

Dodging and stepping over flabby creatures on my way down the wooded track, doing my best not to trip on the live obstacle course. The last blocking my path gallops away as the trees end and the trail opens out into a small glade. Cobbled stone forms a square in the center and as I walk, I see the oddest series of cave drawings imaginable upon the cavern wall. I halt in dumbfounded speechlessness as I stare at depictions of what appeared to be nugs and perhaps a challenger?

A human--if one called a terrible, monster-ish ape person...thing, human-- was seen carrying by all appearances the nug staff and inserting it into the dais. They then beat their chest as a large, heavily muscled nug with a crown stood proudly before them. The next picture shows some sort of wheel that the human points too followed by the portrayal of both the human and nug with swords in hand-paw-whatever.

If that wasn't bad or off-putting enough, the illustrations then diverge. Giving two different outcomes I assumed. The first; the human triumphantly cheers with a tiny nug presenting what looked like a jagged shard while the other brought a disturbing revelation. The result of the human losing to the bejeweled nug hulk was becoming a crystal statue.

A chill races down my spine at the discovery that the cave drawings must have some realism to them. The failed figures in their portrayals were quite literally littering this entire hallow. I swiftly whirl around, about to go try my hand at the staff again when piercing squeaks sound like trumpets.

Across the glade over a dozen nugs with rope between their teeth tug a platform with a giant chaise longue resting atop it from the shadow of the woods beyond. Their progress a snail's pace as they haul the massive burden into the clearing. Or more accurately, not the enormous weight of the furniture but what lay upon it.

".... _oh, my god...nug...Jabba the Nug_..." Mouth hanging wide as I gawk in stunned amazement at the biggest nug I had ever seen. Or perhaps in all of existence.

A mammoth of a nug reclines on its side while the substantial number of smaller ones struggled to tow the fat behemoth. The folds and wrinkles of the gelatinous nug jiggling back and forth in a spongy wave as it was slowly brought to the stony square.

I grip my knees as I bend over, laughing uncontrollably from the sight of a crown situated atop its head. Cackling so hard I collapse to sit on the grass when the portable throne's advance stops and Jabba the Nug's lard wiggles wildly for moment. Finding it hilarious the rippling 'muscles' were instead rippling rolls.

His eyes narrow at my mirth, causing me to howl even harder at the expression of displeasure. Needing to hold my ribs as I fought to breathe. Another set of squeaks cry out and the amusement quickly dims when a second conveyance is tugged forth. Staring in trepidation at a big, crudely constructed wooden wheel being ever so sluggishly delivered to a position beside the cobbled square.

"ahh...nutsack..."


	52. Chapter 52

Apprehension crawled through me as I picked myself up. Wrapping itself in a dense knot inside my chest while I witnessed a physical representation of the wheel from the paintings being brought forth. Doing my damndest to reason out what the hell this thing was supposed to be for.

An insistent head butting the back of my knee steals my attention. Forcing me to glance down in preoccupied bafflement at the little nug determinedly shoving against me. I lift the limb away, causing it to stutter forward at the sudden lack of resistance. With a huff it sits on its haunches and manages to stare up at me with an annoyed expression before emitting a loud chirp. Whiskers twitching, it turns to the wheel coming to a halt alongside the cobbled square then back to me. When I only continue to stand there, another, more adamant twitter comes as it gestures to the wheel once again.

Raising a brow, "You...want me to do something with it? Jesus, I seriously just asked an animal a question." Throwing my hands in the air and shaking my head in disbelief.

_"Eeerr!"_

"Aaand it answered..." Shutting my eyes with a cross of my arms and pinching the bridge of my nose. "Why does the weird shit always happen to me...?" Sliding the hand down my face and unable to believe I was truly entertaining the idea of going along with this crazy train.

_Screw it._

Shrugging, I give up trying to apply logic to any part of this situation. Instead deciding I might as well leap into the nonsense and hope it eventually leads me out of here. I stride for the crude wood, shifting my gaze to study the behemoth sized nug while I walked.

 _Wow, someone took some liberties with their portrait..._ I can't help but snort. _If he's supposed to be the Nug King, isn't he way too huge? I could have sworn he was relatively normal looking and wasn't his crown a circlet or something?_ Fixing my eyes on the tiny golden hat that appeared ridiculous resting atop the much larger head. As if he had found a child's  coronet and somehow managed to glue it to his head to keep it in place. Though at this point it was entirely likely he was this timeline's King or maybe a rival one. Who knew, perhaps nugs had kingdoms and I had wandered into this guy's. The thought immediately brought to mind an image of nugs wearing armor and battlefields as they waged war to conquer each other. Banners waving as they charged, squeaks of outrage as they hop around and daring assassinations taking place behind the scenes to end the fighting. All attempting to usurp the other's throne and become the supreme Nug King.

_Ugh...Really? I'm imagining nugs Game of Thrones-ing it? I've spent way too much time in Thedas that it doesn't even come off as insane to my brain anymore._

I roll my eyes at the rambling musings. Returning my focus to the... _The crap, is this a game wheel?_ Eyebrows lifting dramatically as I tilt my head in incredulity at the primitive piece in front of me. _Yup...That's a game wheel._

In impossible absurdity, nugs had created a rudimentary choice wheel of sticks and wood. Utilizing twigs for rods and a thick reed for a flapper, they had made a very rough, but seemingly functional table. A selection of decisions had even been painted in every slice and on closer inspection, by a toe from the looks of it. I lean in to better examine these sections, fairly confident that this game wheel was in actuality some sort of combat wheel. Similar to how a duelist picked their poison so to speak.

Nevertheless, try as I might, I could not make sense of the stupid thing. Whatever random logic nugs used in their rationale for assigning a particular character was utterly lost on me. A paw print here, an ear there, a rock, a tower, a goddamn swirl that suspiciously looked as though it had been made by a butt; none of it held any rhyme or reason that I could see. I couldn't fathom how any of these things could potentially be translated into fighting. But according to the cavern wall, they somehow did and I wasn't sure which--if any--were the options I should be praying for.

My eyes skim along the wheel before briefly traveling over Nug Jabba. Contemplating what a 'match' would look like and only able to picture an attempted punch followed by getting sat on. Intense floundering ensuing and me instantly being crystallized. An anticlimactic end to a anticlimactic hero, KO by fart blaster.

As dire as it was, I didn't really want to harm the gelatinous marshmallow. Anything I tried was liable to sink or rebound off the jelly roll but perhaps I could pin him down and win that way? However I might not have such an alternative since the wheel didn't give much by way of information...

 _"Eermph eeph eeeer!"_ The wheezed squeaks of Nug Jabba interrupt my scheming, cementing the horrible image further that yes, yes I was going to meet my end by being squished. He raises a paw, curling his sausage toes to point at the wheel, _"Eermph!"_

The little nug from before, who I had dubbed the squire nug, chirps and tosses his chin at the table as well. Even butting me for good measure when it seemed I was moving too slow for Jabba's liking. Puffing a breath at the lunacy, I step forward. With a muttered " _Yolo..._ " I yank down as hard as I can to spin the makeshift wheel. All the while hoping that there was a failsafe somewhere that explained the rules of whatever the flapper landed on.

The _tocktocktocktock_ of the table turning fills the suddenly eerily quiet glade _._ Its clack taking on a sinister quality from the unnatural silence and serving to ramp up my anxiety while I watched with baited breath.

_Tocktocktock...tock...tock...to._

Twitters and coos immediately sound when the flapper comes to a halt on an emblem of two nugs' foreheads colliding together. " _...the fuck is that supposed to be....?"_ I mumble, completely lost as I glance around as if someone would pop forth with the answer.

 _"ERPH EER, EEEEMMPPH!"_ Nug Jabba grandly squeaks with a booming cry.

Extreme confusion floods me at the apparent declaration and subsequent flurry of activity it creates. Nugs rush to clear the stony square and gather on the outskirts of the glade while the 'king' simply remained reclining. The squire persistently bumps me, indicating he wanted me to move.

" _...what is even happening...?"_ Sluggishly walking in the direction the squire was shoving me towards.

 _Jesus, I'm not expected to head butt Lardicus am I?_ Listlessly getting into the spot the squire prompted me to. Where I had become quite proficient in enhancing my strikes, I had yet to attempt putting anything around my skull. I wasn't too thrilled with the idea of my first time trying it being without the presence of someone who could keep me from bursting my head open by accident. 

Squire butts me to the opposite end of the cobbled square. Directly across from Nug Jabba and positioning me slightly off the stone. I swallow audibly as Squire lopes away to leave me standing in stupefied question alone. Utterly bewildered as to what I needed to do and endeavoring to brace myself for anything.

A glow abruptly flares beneath the soles of my boots at the same instant I experience a sensation of being irrevocably adhered to the ground. Fear spears through me at the feeling of being sealed and I violently thrash against the invisible hold. Fruitlessly struggling to lift my feet as a portion of ground  around me rises up. Elevating nearly four feet in a small rectangular platform before stopping with a jolt that leaves me windmilling to remain upright.

Practically putting me eye level with Jabba and offering a better vantage point of the cobbled square. All things that freaked me out more as I came to believe that perhaps I really was expected to ram my way to victory.

_Holy shit I'm about to die! I'm going to get my brains scrambled and I'm going to-_

_Going to need a therapist..._ Cocking my head to the side as my brow furrows in skepticism at what I was watching. Wondering if I had finally cracked and was now hallucinating or maybe I had unknowingly inhaled a toxin and been left to trip some major balls.

A procession of nugs in costume gallops from the forest. Loping in two long lines coordinated by color to converge on the square. I'm only capable of stupidly gaping as cobbled stone morphs into checkered tile in front of my eyes and the nugs separate by color. Red arranging themselves before me on their haunches while blue hops to stand for the nug king.

I simply blink, my mouth opening and closing wordlessly at the array of nugs. Unable to determine if I should laugh or start questioning my sanity. Bright sashes dyed the respective unit shade are worn by the eight positioned in front of the others. Their row forming a defensive line for the nugs sedately sitting behind them. And each with a more foolish outfit.

The four corner nugs looked as if they had submerged themselves in tinted clay then donned hats in the shape of a column. Managing to tie them down with vines in place of string with their little baby hands. Standing right alongside these splashes of color were nugs resting on all fours. Thick, decorative bridles draping over their body's while a second nug wearing a miniature shield across its back regally sat upon them.

And it was all so very normal compared to the nug Popes perched on their hindquarters beside those nug steeds. With their stoles of red or blue and overly gaudy miters much too large for their heads. However none outshone the central nugs nestled protectively within the others. Opulent crowns of rubies and gold glittering even in the glowing light. Lavish fur-lined capes of red and blue velvet hanging from the males while splendid tutu dresses adorned their female counterparts. They had even gone so far as painting red upon their snouts in an effort to give the appearance of luscious, puckering lips. Though it looked more in line of the stereotypical broken down street hooker or clown makeup than the desired beauty queen they were aiming for.

" _...oh, you can't be serious..._ " The dumbfounded murmur escapes as my eyes rove over the 'battlefield' before me. Taking in the cosplaying nugs and color coordinated number. Recognizing quickly just what type of challenge this was to be. I cover my mouth with a palm while shaking my head at the madness, " _wha...what...Nug. Chess. Come on! Really?! What kind of crazy face thinks of Nug Chess? I'm going to get powned by goddamn Nug Chess?! Hooo my god...I'm going to be outwitted by an oversized mole-rabbit and forever remembered as the woman who died from being beaten by a nug...so glad no one's around to see this..._ "

Simply tapping my fingers against my lips and giving a _what am I supposed to do with this_ shrug while I reflected on my circumstance. I had no earthly clue how to play chess and by the very firm, very vocal, squeaks flying my way, I guessed I was expected to start off. Merely armed with the singular knowledge of King getting touched equals sadness and the axis' were labeled by alphabet and numbers, I cast my boat adrift in the 'This is happening no matter what so, meh! Fuck it!' sea.

 _You're supposed to move Pawns first I think..._ "D5." Tossing my hand up in resignation. My 'pieces' turn their beady eyes to give me an _are you kidding me?_ expression as Squire vehemently points with his little toes to the board.

 _"Eer eee er. Eerrr e err,-"_ as if I somehow understood Nug.

Glancing over the tiles and counting up to try again, " _Pffphbt..._ D...4...I don't know." Shrugging while pondering what the repercussions of just shooting Nug Jabba would be.

One of my center 'Pawns' falls to its feet and lopes to advance two squares before sitting back on its haunches to wait. I do my best to closely observe how the 'pieces' move so that if I could, I would at least be able to make an educated guess at some point.

 _"Emph err!"_ Jabba Nug smugly huffs from across the board, not even requiring time to consider his move. To my surprise, his 'Knight' waddles between the Pawns to stand before them and I'm left more confused than ever. Pawns were not required to move first apparently.

 _Well, if D4 was a viable play then this should be too_..."Pawn to...C4?" Figuring I should attempt some sort of blocking scenario if that was even possible.

As I had hoped, the adjacent Pawn I wanted gallops to stand beside his teammate. His body barely setting in before Jabba puffs another order and places a Pawn next to his forward Knight.

 _So Pawns can move one or two spaces then...okay..._ "C3!" I boldly declare. "oh poop." The confident whoop becoming a grumble of dismay upon witnessing my Knight waddling to plop there instead of the third Pawn I expected.

 _"Eerph emph!"_ Beady eyes squint, giving me a haughty look of success as he leans back and positions a Pawn directly in front of mine at D5.

"Oh, it's on, bitch..." Narrowing my own at his expression. "Knight to F3." Refusing to fall for the bait and opting to mimic his plays to determine a pattern.

 _"Eer eph!"_ Squeaking for Nug Pope to take the first vacated Pawn's tile.

"Bishop, huh..." Clucking my tongue as I surveyed the board.

 _If Bishops move a single space then I can shift either of mine but only lefty can go forward_... _but I could press with a Knight instead and save the Bishop for later...Bishops are stronger than Knights right? So I would want to hold them back...or is that not even a thing? Shit...I have no idea..._                   

I scan over the tiles, counting the number and trying to figure out where a Knight could go. _What is that..._ "G5?" I muse.

In vexed upset I see my Bishop begin to lope clear across the board, "Wha-No! Come on! I was thinking out loud!" Angrily throwing my hands up while Nug Pope happily perches right in front of Jabba's Pawn and Knight. "Fuck!" Really wishing I could move my feet so I could kick something right about now.

In pompous arrogance Lardicus chuckles, his massive frame rippling with his cocky amusement as he puffs out his command. "I'm going to punch your rat face so hard..." I promise in a hiss.

In an oddly confusing twist, I watch as Jabba's wheezed order advances his Knight instead of capturing my Bishop as I had expected. Putting me on high alert while I puzzled over whether the play was a ploy to lure me in or if Knights just couldn't move that way. Either way, probably best to take out as many of his 'pieces' as quickly as possible.

"D5." Staring with what I knew I could take. Experiencing the tiniest bit of glee at the small vengeance while my Pawn hops to capture his. Fully assuming mine would take its spot while his would simply move away. But no, that was not to be and I should have known the ridiculousness wouldn't end with just silly costumes. " _Holy bitch balls Batman...wha..I'm done. I quit_." Raising a hand in a halting gesture and dropping my face in my palm as my shoulders shook with uncontrollable laughter.

With bubbly coos, both 'Pawns' sat upon their hindquarters and proceeded to furiously flap their paws at one another. Initiating the equivalent of a playful slap fight that ended almost as soon as it began with my 'Pawn' victorious and Jabba's loping away unharmed to calmly wait at the edge of the board.

The deep squeak of the Nug King rings out, swiftly withering away the mirth as his Knight returns to my open Bishop. Dark, callous eyes never wavering from my face as he studies me with snide triumph. An air of expectation, of waiting, in his expression. Dauntlessly I meet the spiteful gaze, unafraid and unintimidated by a few losses.

Dauntless becomes shock when our 'pieces' converge, the mock clash fading to nothing as a gasp of bitter pain escapes me. Pale blue light shines from below as the crackling of ice sounds. Its radiance wrapping over the tops of my boots and encasing them in crystal. Feeling the very breath being ripped from my lungs at the biting cold. Experiencing the sense that I was being dragged down and slowly suffocating.

A fine sheen of sweat beads my brow as I'm left panting from my first dose of loss. With gritted teeth, malice connects with conceit as eyes fix upon the other. Refusing to shy away, neither yielding or willing to betray weakness.

 _Shit just got real._ Straightening with a snarl and fully intending to bring this fucker with me when I go.                                                                                         

~

They trailed close behind Solas on their way to the ceremonial chamber. Following the long passageway and quickly grasping something wasn't right. Encountering the pulsating thrum of powerful magic that raced across their skin in their descent down a bizarrely silent corridor. A corridor completely vacant and devoid of any sign of life.

Impossibly the swarm of wrinkly critters had seemingly vanished into thin air.    

Exchanging wary glances, they slip their weapons from their sheathes. Approaching with cautious steps to enter the once dimly lit room. Brilliant light radiated from the gnarled staff quietly erected in the center of the chamber. Casting the entire circular space in a dazzling yellow daylight that illustrated just how empty it truly was.

" _Nrugh_. A glowing stick of Destiny and no Boss Lady means trouble." Not sounding at all pleased. Whether from being near the staff or finding no trance of the Inquisitor was uncertain.

"Feel that? It's a spatial distortion in the Veil to create an ambient pocket...What an ingenious trick. This staff is just full of little surprises."

"Doubtful our Inquisitor saw it that way." Blackwall counters Dorian with a chuckle. "Likely a safe bet she's stuck in your 'pocket'. So, how do we stop it? We just pull it out and the Inquisitor's free?"  

"Dorian, you read the inscriptions. You are certain you interpreted them correctly?" Voice calm as serious eyes drift from the staff to rest on Dorian.

"After all those years of rapped knuckles I should hope so. Nothing says learning quite like a good tap of wood." He flippantly quips. " _Na valos atredum fornen pa amgefron_. 'The ancestor's favor' or 'the ancestor's blessing for those willing to kneel'. The flash and bluster may be part of the showmanship. Nobles do so enjoy their displays of self-import after all."

A furrow mars his brow while he listens, as if something didn't quite sit well. His weight shifting as Solas' gaze returns to the luminous staff, somber eyes considering and likely perceiving more than any of them realized. "Amge _fron_ or Amge _forn,_ Dorian?"

With a whistle, Bull rocks back on his heels at Solas' question and looks expectantly at Dorian. His attention now fully away from the tingling magic choking the air.

Lips part to respond only to wordlessly close again. The color leeching from Dorian's face as an expression of dawning horror suffuses is all the answer Solas needs. Mutely he turns and moves to stand near the artifact. His eyes roaming over the relic with grim concentration before he raises a hand to hover just shy of touching it.

"Riiiggght. And why is _am-gee-frown_ bad? Besides this arse backwards shite." She clarifies with a gesture to the staff. 

"Amgeforn is 'sacrifice'. If I was wrong and switched the meanings, I might have just sent the Inquisitor into danger." Face crestfallen and appearing as if he going to be ill.

"Then those willing to sacrifice will receive a blessing. Maker..." Tone aghast as he wipes a gloved palm down his bearded face.

"Wait. You're jokin' right? We're going to put an end to this glowin' business and Inky's out, yeah?" Eyes zipping between Solas and Dorian with worry. "I gave it to her. I gave her that stupid butt scratcher and now she's supposed to lose something? No, it ain't right."

"There has been little time for that to happen." Solas evenly asserts. At that, four pairs of eyes give Solas a look, reminding him of just who he was talking about. "Let us hope it is not irreversible." He rectifies with a stressed sigh. "The staff is acting as a conduit, its removal will only seal whomever is on the other side. As the Inquisitor has yet to emerge, it is possible she is unable to do so on her own."

"So it's to be a rescue mission then." Blackwall states.

"Not so fast. Someone should remain here to make sure the door isn't shut in our faces. Since it was my mistake that caused this, I will go."

"Your altruism, however well intended, is pointless, Dorian. When the staff was discovered, we would have found ourselves here regardless of who held it. The dimension is pure magic, its properties may well be similar to the Fade. You would better serve ensuring the connection remains intact."                      

"I've spent my life exploring and practicing Theoretical magic, Solas. I'd say that makes me more than dashingly qualified to take a trip inside a highly dubious spell."

"And if the situation is dire, yours is the face the Inquisitor would wish to see?"         

He opens his mouth to speak before closing it again, recognizing he had been beat. "Playing the lover card and appealing to my romantic side are we?" Expelling a sigh of defeat, he relents. "Very well. I leave the saving of our brash Inquisitor to you. I'll keep things open on this end."

"Trying to win an argument with Solas, you had a better chance picking up a turd at the clean end." Sera snorts.

A large grin surfaces as he eyes Dorian's slight pout. "Don't look so down. The Boss isn't one to mind a slip up. Besides, you're pretty so it's easier for your mistakes to be forgiven." Turning, Bull walks to intercept Blackwall, clapping him on the shoulder to halt him when he moves to join Solas on the dais. "As much as magic makes my ass itch, probably better I go. No telling what's inside or if the air is toxic."

With a nod, Blackwall strides to stand alongside Dorian and Sera. Together they retreat back to the wall, not wanting to accidentally get caught in whatever pull the portal might have as they bid good luck to their teammates. Nervously they watch as energy flares within Solas' palm and an answering thrum of power pulses from the staff. Suddenly with a blinding flash, light engulfs the chamber, leaving the three momentarily sightless. As spots gradually clear from their vision, the overwhelming emptiness of the tomb becomes nearly palpable as they're left utterly alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side Note:
> 
> Interplay's 1988 DOS Battle Chess, anyone? (˚▽˚)


	53. Chapter 53

_"Gargh!"_ The vicious growl passes unbidden from between my lips as teeth grind at the bitter cold. Face scrunching into a snarl as I tried to continue to breathe through the ever increasing feeling of being asphyxiated. Experiencing excruciating pain at suffering another loss as my 'Pawn' happily lopes to join the other captured 'pieces' standing alongside the board.

The sound of my wheezed pants seem deafening to my ears even as the bubbly coos and twitters of our audience fills the glade. I look out over the board as the cracking and shifting of crystal finally comes to a halt, taking deep breathes through my nose in an attempt to level my breathing. Wiping a trembling hand across my sweaty brow while I contemplated the move Nug Jabba was forcing me to take. Trying to ignore the hard pressure surrounding my legs up to the knee as I considered the reason for sacrificing yet another Pawn to me.

Nug Lardicus was enjoying this slow play of cat and mouse. I could see that plain as day. He could easily sweep the board with me--end it all, but instead he chose to whittle down my 'pieces' one at a time. Taking sick pleasure in witnessing the gradual devouring of my body and my battle to remain stoic.

Placing a Pawn here, a Pawn there for me to 'conveniently' capture. Seizing one of my own when I refused to fall for the trick or doing what he did now. By positioning his Pawn directly in the path of my King, putting it in check and making the threat clear. It was infuriating and I didn't see a way out. For every piece he took, the crystal crawled higher while he remained unmolested. There would come a point the magic consumed too much and willpower alone wouldn't keep me conscious. It was terrifying to recognize my death was drawing closer and closer with each play. In desperation I clung to the building fury and calming thought that at least I would make sure to go out bringing King Douche with me, I would allow nothing less. For if I did not, I knew I would break down and rage. No peaceful resignation or serene acceptance, but drowning fear and fervent resentment.

Gripping my hips, I give my head a vigorous shake to clear it and expel a gusty breath. Resolutely looking straight at Nug Jabba, I dramatically lift a hand to present him with the finger. "Fuck you, you giant dingleberry. Fuck you. Pawn to E3." Unable to muster even a sliver of delight in the ridiculous slap fight of our Pawns going at it.

" _Emph erph._ " Huffing the order to post his Bishop in front of both Rook and Pawn at A6 without the slightest twitch over having just lost a Pawn to me.

I rub my temples while regarding the board and wearily drag my fingers down my face to cup it. Trying to determine what a 'smart' move would be. His Bishop, Queen, and Knight were all directly in front of one of my Knight's. I had been able to conclude Bishops could only move diagonally, putting my Knight in danger of being captured without intervention. Queen's were still a complete mystery to me but with my luck it was probable it could take my Knight too. The only piece not currently threatening it was his Knight since their tiles touched.

" _balls..._ " I dejectedly grumble. 

"You're shitting me. HAHAHA! You really find the weirdest crap, Boss. Good to know I'll never lack for entertainment while you're around."

I swiftly contort my body to look in stunned disbelief at Bull and Solas confidently striding into the glade behind me. A shit eating grin upon Bull's face at the scene before him while Solas' was a mix of fascination and concern. My face splits into a smile at the sight, mystified by their sudden appearance and wondering how the hell they managed to get here but thankful for it nonetheless. Their presence utterly obliterated the bleak darkness and made me realize just how disheartened I had become.

"Well, you know, sometimes you gotta take a break and throw a nug tea party. Go wild." I flippantly remark as they move to stand beside my raised platform.

"So...poor life choice?" Bull jests with a tilt of his head at the crystal surrounding my calves while Solas stepped closer. He lifts a hand toward the enchantment, appearing as if he intended to attempt to dispel it before he's stopped by vehement twitters from Squire.

 _"Eeerr ee er eeerrrck!-"_ Irritably pointing his little toes from Solas to me to the cave paintings and back again in a heated cycle.

Continuing until Nug Jabba's booming squeaks silence him. _"Eerph eeermph!"_ Waving his pudgy paw at all of me in an encompassing gesture. As if that somehow settled everything and we would behave I assumed.

"Uhh...huh?" Giving the same _what the fuck?_ expression I did upon encountering this nonsense.

"Seems we are being warned our interference is unwanted." Pulling his gaze from the cavern wall to worriedly land on me. "It is difficult to determine the effect forcibly removing a spell of this complexity will cause. But it may prove a safer alternative then...this." Features saying he didn't quite know what to make of the nug cosplay either as he inclined his head at the chess board.

"Ha! It's chess! How tough can it be to beat a sausage with legs?"

It was humiliating and I really didn't want to answer that honestly but I knew if I didn't I would be up a very poopy creek. "Yeah...about that...Umm...probably a good time to tell you I don't know how to play...I've been trying to wing it. Every captured piece is because he gave it to me. The fat bastard is drawing out the game longer so he can get his rocks off watching this." Motioning towards the pale stone encasing my legs. "Each loss makes it spread and it doesn't feel anything like rainbows and a warm hug. I've been checked multiple times already just for shits and giggles. You have no idea how badly I want to pummel that puffy, mole-pig face in right now."

Twin expressions of provoked ire surface at the disclosure, "Knight back to D4." They declare in unhesitating unison.

 _Pffphbt, hell yeah!_ "What they said." I promptly state with a flap of my hand at Bull and Solas. I didn't need time to consider. No way was I going to question any moves that come out of their mouths. "Knight back to D4."

In a shuffling waddle he turns to do as instructed, his body setting his rider to swaying while he walked. I press my lips together, watching Solas' and Bull's reaction instead of the Knight. Taking shameless joy in their looks of speechless incredulity before biting cold abruptly knifes through me and the crackling of ice can clearly be heard. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting against the unexpected pain and gritting my teeth as a hiss of air escapes. Doing my best to stay quiet and ride through it so I didn't freak out the others.

But the evident sound of crystal climbing higher and expression of agony on my face did nothing to conceal what was happening.

"Boss!"

"Akira!"

Hearing their concerned voices but unable to allay their worry while desperately striving to hold it together. 

"The fuck! Nothing was captured!" I angrily yell when I could speak without betraying the hurt. Squire's heated squeaks furiously start at my outburst, his little foot adamantly pointing at Bull and Solas while Nug Jabba's body jiggled vigorously with his sadistic glee.

" _Nrgh._ Sounds like the mud mops have an issue with outside help as well." He asserts with a grunt before shifting his gaze to Solas beside him. "What's the plan? I assume kicking King Voluptuous' teeth in would be a bad idea right now."

"You are correct." Solas affirms with a hardened tone and tightly controlled features as he observed the King's blatant delight. "The magic here appears to be link-"

 _"Eer emph!"_ Somehow exhibiting a look of smug challenge at Solas as he huffs his orders over him. Commanding his Knight forward to take mine at D4 with all the pompous superiority in the world in his beady eyes.  

"...you suck...giant donkey dong...you monster turd nugget." Wasting what precious little breath I had to taunt him with a strained rasp. Feeling as if all of my heat was being leeched away as icy blue inched its way up my thighs.

"-ra...ira...Akira!"

The anxious call rouses me with a nasally inhale. Groggily I turn my head to blink down uncomprehendingly at Solas, unaware of having fainted as severe shivers began wracking my body. Staring in a disoriented fog at the face creased in apprehension studying me from below.

His brow smoothes as a resolute expression takes it place and he straightens. With sure strides he circles my platform to rest his palms on the edge before gracefully vaulting up behind me. Crowding his solid strength close as warm fingers tenderly slide across my lower back. Trailing their comforting heat over naked skin as a voice filled with loving pride caresses my ear, "you've done well, _vhenan_." Drawing my dazed focus to him just as the piercing crash of glass shattering to the ground resounds. "Bull, take her."

Gentle hands hold me steady, gingerly leaning me towards waiting arms, "...solas?" Reaching for him in confusion as the crackling of ice echoes over a suddenly still hallow. "solas? Solas?!" Coming to full cognizance as powerful arms envelope me protectively.

"Boss, calm down. Everything's go-"

I struggle against Bull's hold, flailing until he releases me to weakly sway on the grass, desperately turning to the livid glare of the Nug King. "Wait! No! It's a mistake! It's me! I'm your opponent, give the punishments back! Please!"

I look back, a choked sob lodged in my throat as I witness pale crystal creeping over Solas' lithe form. The suffocating fear and anguish like nothing I had ever experienced as I seized the platform's rim in a white-knuckled grip. On the verge of hyperventilating while I gazed up at the expression of pinched stoicism on Solas' face. The taut bracketing of his features as he quietly stood with hands neatly clasped behind him the only indication of his discomfort.

_No! No!_

Every fiber of my being screamed its denial, preferring the agony of corruption ripping me apart or suffering the slow death of crystallizing a dozen times over than watching him die. Feeling unfathomable darkness and violent rage slithering at the edges of my mind. Sensing its encroaching madness and doing nothing to hinder it if it meant his freedom.

The anchor flares with a blaze of green, viciously buzzing with volatile energy wrestling for release. Fervently spitting dazzling sparks that went unheeded as eyes fixated with single-minded focus on the sole thing that mattered.

"It's all right, _vhenan_." Opening his eyes to look down at me. Their soft light changing to one of startled surprise upon settling on me and drifting to a very active anchor.   

"I tried to tell you it would be fine." Walking to come around beside us. "If oversized jerky can beat him, Solas is asking for--Hot damn!" Bull exclaims when he looks at me. "That's freaky shit, Boss. Real freaky."

I breathe deeply with a brief close of my eyes, instantly calming and returning to normal at the reminder. Bull was right, Solas wouldn't lose, and he certainly wouldn't lose when the stakes were high. He wasn't a gambler anymore, he didn't take chances. I had let emotion get the better of me and forgotten just who it was I was needlessly worrying over. 

Infinitely relieved and knowing things would be okay, I smirk at Bull's squeamishness of all things magical. "It's just the anchor, Bull. _Woooo_." Waving a now dormant anchor at him.

"Uh...no, Boss. Your eyes did some creepy color change. Some warning next time would be nice."

Snorting in skepticism, "Ha! Sure." before seeing Bull wasn't joking, "Wait? Seriously?" Glancing around as if that was somehow going to let me see the truth of his words. Not noticing anything different with my vision as I scanned the glade, though I did note many wrinkly bodies hunched in obvious fear.

"A fleeting reflection of power perhaps." Solas supplies distractedly with features cast in an unreadable expression, his attention remaining on the anchor.    

That didn't seem right at all but I'm not given time to process the odd event. Nug Jabba's heaved squeaks abruptly carry over the square, bringing our concentration back to the immediate gelatinous problem before us.

" _Erph er eee mpheeerph eemph._ " He arrogantly huffs with an angry squint at us. Though I didn't miss there was a hint of wariness now and I doubted the others did either.

Seemingly collected himself, Squire bravely sits up a few moments after Jabba's royal decree, _"Eer eer! Eer e!"_ Flapping his front paws in an up gesture at the game 'pieces' and bobbing his head encouragingly at them. Attempting to be reassuring while nervous glances are shared for long minutes before hairless bodies gradually rise to settle back on their haunches. Their plump little limbs tense from residual fear while they sat but valiantly staying their ground.   

Lardicus' haughtily belted wheeze comes when the pieces had arranged themselves. Fixing pitch black eyes snidely on his new contender, " _Eph eermph eerph._ " Lifting a single portly toe at Solas as an audible poof of air sounds.

Raucous laughter swiftly fills the glade from Bull's bent form, his hands gripping his knees to steady himself as Solas merely raises an unamused brow in challenge at the Nug King's taunt. Bubbled mirth escapes as I tilt my head in merry disbelief at the display, fiercely trying to keep from laughing outright. 

"Were...were you just flipped the bird and farted at?" Smothering my cackle as best I could with a cross of my arms and press of my lips against my knuckles. Feeling the last of my terror and stress drain away at Jabba's gall of choosing to do that to Solas of all people.  

Entirely ignoring our obnoxious mirth, "if you are prepared: Knight takes Knight at D4." Solas evenly announces with prideful bearing.

The composed clasp of his hands behind him, the dignified set of his shoulders, the cocksure poise of his features; all bespoke of a man with utmost confidence in his abilities and in himself.    

And damn if it wasn't sexy as hell.

"I'm so turned on right now." I sigh in unabashed mooning and a triumphant smirk. Knowing the comment hadn't gone unheard when I spot the faint twitch of Solas' mouth and smiling light in his eyes.

"Me too." Moving to stand beside me and folding his arms to observe the match. "Though probably not for the same reason." Bull clarifies as I shake my head with an amused snort.

We watch while the 'Knights' sidle up to each other. Furiously slapping their paws in mock battle before blue waddles away to gather with the others on the sidelines. Wondering and waiting to see what Lardicus would do now that he had a competent opponent to deal with.

I take evil glee in the short pause Nug Jabba needs to consider his next play, recognizing the Pawns he had casually sacrificed earlier might now be a costly mistake. With a harrumph, he instructs his Bishop to retreat as pudgy toes start to idly drum against his extensive love handles. Betraying the beginnings of his nervousness.    

"Castle Queenside." Needing no time to mull it over.

" _Eerm eph._ " Bishop to F6.

"King to B1."

" _Eer ermph._ " King to G7.

"Bishop to C4."

This shuffling of pieces carries on; neither capturing or moving to do so by the looks of it to my untrained eye. Instead it's a play of maneuvering within their respective sides of the board and slowly venturing to the center. Solas maintaining his assured, quick-fire directives while Jabba gradually required longer and longer periods to contemplate his movements. The lull seemed to come to an end however when King Marshmallow positioned his pieces in whatever trap Solas had lain for him.

"Bishop takes Pawn at F7. Check." Sending his Bishop nearly clear across the board to sit alongside Jabba's King.

It's evidently not what Lardicus was expecting or planned to let happen by the expression of pissed surprise on his piggish face. Whiskers twitching and nostrils flaring with his visible ire, he surveys the game. Carefully weighing options before heaving an unanticipated command. " _Eeermph eer eph._ " Sneering his choice as he fixed Solas with a venomous look. Unwaveringly staring as though not wanting to miss a second while his Rook loped to D4 to capture Solas' last Knight.

My eyes zip to Solas at the glaring spite, not needing to see the play to know a piece was about to be taken. Heart beating a thunderous tempo as I witnessed in helpless fury crystal climbing disturbingly higher. Feeling extremely ill at the firm set of Solas' features that revealed none of the excruciating pain I knew he must be enduring. Experiencing burning shame at having put him in a position that he felt he needed to take my place and that I was thankful for the calm fortitude he was presenting. Without it, I was uncertain if I could keep a level head or stand as still as I did now. Desiring nothing more than to get him as far from this horrid spell as possible.    

"Pawn takes Rook at D4." Voice strained as he calmly stood and directed his counter.

And appeared to purposely open the floodgates to a bloodbath.

" _Eph eer e eemph._ " Calling for his Rook to take Solas' Pawn at D4.

"Rook takes Rook at D4."

" _E eer erph._ " His Queen taking the Rook at D4 to the resounding cracking of crystal building.

"Queen takes Bishop at F6. Check."

" _Erm erph erm e._ " Queen captures Queen at F6.

"Rook takes Queen at F6."

" _...eerm eph er._ " Nug Jabba reluctantly huffs. Seeming to loath bringing his King out further to take Solas' Rook at F6.

Even as pieces were seized in quick succession and pale stone rose disgustingly farther, Solas remained staunchly unruffled. The hard set to his features signifying it was becoming difficult to press on but impossibly appearing as if he was still enjoying the steady decimation of Lardicus' units.

"Smug little asshole." Bull snorts with a smirk as he studies the board and the match continuing to wage before us. "That fart sticking in your craw, eh, Solas?" He jovially calls up to him. Seeing my utter confusion as to what the hell was going on, he elaborates. "It looks like he's planning to capture all of Lord Pumperbottom's pieces. Doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's hilarious. Or it would be if you understood the game." Giving me a comforting pat on my shoulder. "The take away is: Solas is really ripping him a new one."

As stressed and jittery as I was, hearing that so cheerfully stated from Bull went a long way to alleviating the worry. Especially when it became clear even to me that Bull's assumption had been correct. Two Pawns and a single Bishop were all that stood between Solas and Jabba's King. The end so mockingly close that I began to relax, believing it would come to a finale any second. Anticipating the spell to be broken soon and barely capable of containing my impatience before Nug Jabba seizes Solas' Pawn and effectively tying their pieces.

Crystal cracks and shifts, locking my heart in an aching vice at the noise. Driving my dread straight to new levels at the realization they were even and nearly tipping me into a panic attack before the expression on Solas' face allays the terror as nothing else could.

Firmly controlled pain strained his features, etching the solemn planes in harsh lines that suited the proud angles poorly. Yet for all their stern bearing, they could not disguise the predatory gleam of his eyes or lips twisted in a whisper of wolfishness. Eyes that were regarding prey that had just been unwittingly lured and would now be ruthlessly run to ground.     

Returning my focus to the board to witness in admiring awe Solas maneuvering only his King to capture both Pawns before turning his attention to Jabba's King. Chasing him until he was trapped within the corner and forcing Lardicus to fruitlessly sacrifice his Bishop in order to remain in the game.

Despite my ignorance, there was no mistaking the masterful skill with which he had utterly demolished his opponent. Or the frightening foresight and strategizing necessary to efficiently follow through without falling victim to your own plan. I didn't know whether to be insanely turned on or insanely intimidated.

 _Christ, and I'm supposed to pull something out my ass to outsmart this?_   

"Pawn takes Bishop. Checkmate." Solas coolly declares even as stormy grays betrayed smug pleasure at outwitting his adversary. 

_Hup. Going down in a fiery inferno._

I eagerly step to the platform as blood red sash gallops to confront royal blue stole in a final clash of frantic paw flapping. Wanting the crystal gone and Solas free without any more bullshit. Beginning to fidget then bounce as happy coos drift from the board and Solas is abruptly released with a burst of icy color.

He collapses to a knee while shards of crystal crash to the ground in a pale shower. Steadying himself with a hand upon the dais, his body shivering from intense cold and breathes ragged as the platform slowly descends.

Slow, it was much too slow.

In a bouncing jump I hoist myself up to join him, too impatient to wait for this elevator from hell any longer. His eyes widen in surprise as I throw myself at him, tackling him to the platform in my enthusiasm as I cradled his head and moved to capture his mouth. Chilly hands instinctively grasping my hips to catch me as he topples with an _ooph_. Fervent lips caress the full softness of his, teasing them to part for my exploration and press close when they do. Mercilessly stroking to taste his welcoming heat in an unapologetic plunder that stole what little breath he had as lips greedily glide over his.

Fingers clench to impulsively pull me flush against him as I tear my mouth away. His breathing harsher than before as beautiful greys the color of a storm lock on me in a naked expression of longing. I slide my palms to cup the sides of his face as I lewdly grin down at him.

"I'm going to do dirty, dirty, things to you." The promise putting a playful light in Solas' eyes and earning me an intrigued twitch of his brow.

"Not one to knock a good slap and tickle, but probably best we save it for later, Boss. Looks like our 'blessing' is coming."

Chuckling at Bull's description, I shuffle off of Solas to allow him to stand before clasping both of his hands. Unmindful of the instant goose bumps that rise and shudder the freezing touch causes as I hold them between my own and tuck them under my chin.

_Cold. He's so cold._

Trying to use my puny heat to warm him up while Squire lopes across the glade with something in his mouth. Agilely threading his way through the chess pieces who were leisurely galloping to exit the glade to seat himself in front of us with a grunt.

 _"Eeerph ee, ermph erm. Eph eeerm e eermph er!"_ Nug King resentfully heaves in booming squeaks. Though whatever he huffed made Squire promptly take the object from between his teeth and wetly offer it Solas. _"E eerph emph!"_

"That's...that's all yours." Smiling at the saliva hanging from it and reluctantly releasing my hold on him.

Solas gingerly takes the proffered gift with a pinch of his fingers, giving it a hard flick that sends drool flying before wiping the prize on his thigh. Bull and I crowd close as Solas turns it over in his hands, studying the odd little object with curiosity.

By all appearances it was just a long sliver of jagged metal but considering where we were, I had a pretty good inkling as to what it was supposed to be. Though why it had to be so stupid to obtain, I had no clue. I just prayed that if we ended up at the other tombs they didn't plop us back into this terrible petting zoo.

"Must have run out of the good 'favors'. I think you were just gypped by dinner."

"No..." He tells Bull, faintly running a finger over the splinter as he examined it. "Note the obvious grooves. It is a fragment, but to what and for what purpose is unclear. Perhaps the tomb's writings can tell us more."    

Bull snorts, "Ha! W-"

 _"Eph eerm eer ephm!"_ Lardicus pompously interrupts with a wave of his plump leg in a sweeping gesture. Countless twitters and coos resounding in answer before suddenly the tiny bodies from earlier are lining up to begin towing his massive frame.

"Being dismissed like overworked dancing girls, huh? Come on, let's get out of this shit hole." Tossing his head towards the animal track.

"Wait, one thing first." I announce before swiftly Fade Stepping to get alongside Nug Jabba's chaise lounge. He startles at my sudden appearance beside him and my face splits in an evil beaming smile. "You fucked with the wrong crazy. No one harms my stud muffin!" With an enhanced strike I kick out the leg of Jabba's throne. Plunging him to the ground as the rest of the heavy wood buckles from the strain. Laying him out flat on his back with pudgy paws vigorously flailing in an attempt to roll himself over and looking exactly like an overturned turtle.

I cackle diabolically at the sight and spin on my heel to address both Bull's laughing figure and Solas' quiet amusement. "Now we can get the fuck out."


	54. Chapter 54

I stand in scorching sunlight, staring out at an endless expanse of sand while I waited for Sera to complete her business. Taking this precious time alone to process the events of the day without the presence of prying eyes.

My irises had briefly changed to silver according to Bull. The anchor was activated to unprecedented levels, a fact I was now able to recognize with the heat of the moment passed. Its volatile energy lingering and still experiencing the occasional mild aftershocks thrumming through my palm. However even as worrisome as these unknowns were and what they could potentially mean, it was nothing compared to the disquiet I felt replaying my actions.

I had lost it. Utterly and completely lost it.

Never had I found myself in a position where all rational thought fled. Reacting with such savagely visceral need to shield, to protect.

To save.

Not once had there been a situation where a slice of logic didn't remain. Always; always, I had retained enough presence of mind to devise a plan or course of action. Whether deciding the fuck all option or choosing to struggle for as long as I could just to be a dick; there had always been enough iron determination to maintain a scrap of calm even in the worst of shit storms.

But for the first time in my life it had failed me. Solas had been in pain and I had been helpless to stop it. A spell meant to torture, to kill, dared to touch him before my eyes and everything had ceased to exist in that moment.

Insurmountable rage, vengeful violence; they had writhed on the verges of consciousness. Threatening to consume the vestiges of humanity to burn anything it had to to secure his release.

And I hadn't cared one ounce.

If it led to Solas' freedom and his life, I was ready to turn it all to ash. But even this was not very disconcerting.

No, it was that I pleaded -begged, to have the spell returned. Knowing full well it would signify an agonizing death. My life for his. A real soul for a shadow. Stupidly imploring to be sacrificed for an illusion that might only be responding with love because the 'Inquisitor' desired it.

I knew this, I _knew_ this. And yet, like an imbecile, I found myself not balking at the idea even now. In the calm light of day, I realized I would unhesitatingly beg again without regret and this more than anything was an unsettling discovery.

I didn't shelter people. I didn't put myself as a living shield. And I sure as fuck didn't walk around with the mentality of selfless sacrifice for another. I loved who I was, loved to be alive and whole. Heroically jumping in to take the blow for a person, being a protector, these things were not me. I was the most important person to me, my welfare came first and foremost in my mind and yet...

And yet...

Solas had been in pain.

And I had prioritized his life.

_You should never have touched him._

I lower my head in my hands, allowing a moment for the angry remorse to be heard. Remorse that I felt none for my choice and would foolishly choose it each time if given the alternative.

~

Wanting to afford them a measure of relief from the blazing sun, their horses were led within the tomb and unburdened while we rested for the day. It made for a cramped fit but there was little help for it and we were all so bone weary that it was quickly ignored. With Blackwall having gone to the vault's entrance to take first guard, Bull and Sera already dozing, and the mages off studying the treasure room's inscriptions; I was left to drowsily wait for Solas to return. Doing my best to remain awake so I could speak with him about the anchor and certainly not so I could use him as a body pillow.

I sit in an exhausted cross-legged slouch, blinking in a slightly unfocused fog at the mounts as my mind idly wandered. Thoughts absently drifting to the future, to an exploding glowy palm of doom, to sexy elves with terrible choice of knee guards, to the wish for sleep, and back to sexy elves again. Finding the musings were roaming more and more between impatience for Solas to arrive so we could sleep and an intense desire to happily rub against him like a cat the longer I sat.

Or they were until my tired brain decided it wanted to throw some reality into the mix in order to poop on my parade.

_Uuugghh! I just had a minor freak out about acting out of character because of the man and here you are imagining using him as an erotic mattress while petting him? And why is he only wearing the unamused face knees? Why?! Why the face knees? Is that some sort of attempt to kill any kind of lady boner?_

_Hey! Their boredom is not that bad...okay maybe they are...but he's so pretty..._

_Stuu~pid! You're just asking for trouble and your face punched in. Look! Look what happened today! 'Oh, Solas I'll save you!'. Smother, smother. Come on! Look at how you're acting! It hasn't even been that long since you got together and idiocy is already ensuing! Not real! Not. Re~al!_

_So no more holding him even though I desperately want to? Stop seeking the comfort of his touch? And what, pretend I don't see the loving light in his eyes, the yearning? I simply ignore it all, somehow magically don't react to it? Yeah, cuz I do such a **swell** job of it already._

_.............._

_I don't have to go that far. I'm aware of the problem now, I can watch for it._

_Yes, that's right. No reason to get ahead of myself and needlessly worry over it. I can apply logic and keep it under wraps, make sure I don't get carried away or become too invested. I was just already fatigued and caught off guard is all. I can do this. Everything will be a-okay._

Feeling much relieved and pleased with myself, I lay back on the little nest of bedrolls I had made. Letting my thoughts gravitate to merrier things while I contentedly wait.

~

" _Well that didn't go as planned._ " I grumpily sigh.

Cowled figures and men partially armored stand menacingly in the sandy graveyard.  Their faces masks of sinister disgust and baleful loathing as they kept a watchful eye on bedraggled prisoners. Cruelly commanding the downtrodden slaves to dig faster, work harder, in order to create a clear path to the tomb. Driving them to continue past the point of exhaustion. Spitting on any collapsed forms when they finally fall prey to the harsh labor before dragging the body away like trash to be unceremoniously discarded. Then in the blink of an eye the air of misery shifts to one of benevolence. Captors cloaked in generosity compassionately supervise blissfully happy men and women as they toil. Shrouds of adulation in their expressions while they looked upon their subjugators. Prideful joy playing across their faces when they weaken and succumb to death.  

I had meant to remain awake long enough for Solas to join me but by the odd as fuck memory I found myself in; that hadn't happened. This was the first time witnessing an actual event or anything more than scenery portrayed for me to see. It was weird to observe how disjointed two different perceptions could be but super cool at the same time.

Intrigued by the entirely opposing views shifting back and forth, my gaze roves over the burial ground for a moment before landing on a familiar sight that puts an instant grin on my face.

_"What has two thumbs and is always naked?"_

"....me?" Smiling broadly at the unsure tone as the air subtly moves and I stride to stand beside him.

With the self-imposed ban on traipsing around the Fade while in the Approach, I'd been unable to check on Larry after his grieved confession. Unaware of how concerned I had truly become about his welfare until his stunning eyes cheerfully tracked my progress. Spotting a hint of lingering sorrow shadowing their emerald depths as I step close, sorrow that I now realized had always been present with each visit.

I sorely wanted to ask him how he was faring, what had happened afterwards, what things were like before all the despair; so much I wanted to know but I wasn't sure if I had any right to it or if it would only be trudging up terrible memories just for my own curiosity. I was coming to understand Spirits weren't as fragile as I first believed, they could endure, but something told me Larry was a rarity even by Spirit standards. A rarity that should be fiercely protected and its loss would be a tragic waste. And not solely due to probably having a little extra something from being birthed by a real soul.

Eyes of deep green gaze down at me, becoming unfathomably darker as their elated light dims with troubled sadness while they studied me. His fingers lifting as though to affectionately caress my cheek before dejectedly falling. "You have become so irreparably torn, _da'elgara_." Larry whispers morosely.

Words spoken with such soft regret that its slow to take in before my heart seems to stutter in fear for a moment. Darkspawn, Giants; I had felt nothing because I was already suffering from poison and overwhelming heat. Attributing the easy availability of magic to overcoming Wisdom's corruption, not utilizing my soul as a power source. I wipe trembling hands down my face, sighing as I tried to find a silver lining at the crappy news.

_At least I don't feel any different? Yay?_

"It did make you stronger, _da'elgara_." Larry comfortingly says, able to see the distressed thoughts. "There is just too much drawn to your light with nothing to catch and direct it as you wish." When it doesn't seem to help, his brow crinkles in consideration before it abruptly smoothes and he brightly adds, "it is not so bad, we can search for something to help your control. And you have grown close to your tether, they will surely find an answer if you ask."

I glance down at myself, expression skewing in confusion as I look back at Larry, " _I don't have a tether, Larry._ "

"The wolf. He is yours." He states as if puzzled why I didn't know such an obvious thing. "He has been yours since you descended, there is no other."

I shut my eyes with a harassed groan, pinching the bridge of my nose with a shake of my head, " _Ah, come on, Larry..._ " Blowing out a put-upon breath at what sounded like the insinuation of soulmates. I didn't knock the concept of it or anything but there were too many 'ifs' for my taste. 'If' you happen to be born in the same time period, 'if' you happen to get within the same general vicinity, 'if' you happen to locate said person in a throng of people, 'if' they're unattached and so are you when you finally miraculously meet; then you get the _one_ person destined for you. And what, everyone else is a whoopsie? Nah, there were just too many coincidences and everything having to line up in just the right order for you to be one of the blessed few to get the fairytale ending. Nope, going to stick with some people can bring you untold happiness while others will simply fall short and it was up to you to determine who those people were.

And that's before throwing make-believe worlds into the mix. If Larry was suggesting Solas was mine, it was goddamn laughable and very, very unlucky. It meant I didn't even get a real soulmate, I got a pretend one who was soulmates with another person. Fuucking unlucky. 

Larry's face scrunches while he looked at me, as though he was attempting to reason through the cynical garble and coming back completely baffled. "Must their bond only be born of amorous intent? Is this what they are in your world, _da'elgara_? It is very narrow. Tethers are not so and very different. Your people's light radiates as a beacon. Its blaze singing a lasting lullaby that searches for a strength to temper it. To preserve and keep it whole. Companionship, loyalty, bravery, trust; these resonate to the soul and will eventually draw it to its chosen. Yours formed one of love and it was returned. Not all are so fortunate or have a warm binding when they find their tether." Handsome features fall as eyes of emerald implore for understanding, "those corrupt, tainting what they were meant to shield."  

So a broader, more general version of soulmates, I could dig it. Though I was going to sidestep the love part...Instead there was something else far more interesting that Larry had implied. It immediately snagged my attention and since he brought it up, I assumed it was safe territory to delve into.

" _You make it sound like there have been others, Larry--besides Aogan and myself. How many we talking here? What about right now?"_ The last more than anything was important. I needed to know if I had a potential ally floating around or well informed foe. Not everyone was thrilled with Mr. McHotpants, especially after his 'yeah, it's all going to burn' revelation in Trespasser, and what better way to be the savior of Thedas then take him out when he's at his weakest?

"I am uncertain, _da'elgara_ , I'm sorry." Expression downcast as if he was somehow doing wrong by not knowing. "Yours is the first that pulled me from the dark. I merely witnessed as they passed to their end. A miner caressed with living blood, a soldier led to flame, a dreamer vainly calling to the lost, a slave broken by law; their light has been gone for a long time. Only the dreamer's song yet lingers."

Silently I stand, staring out at a memory of warped truths, scared to give voice to a fear that had been my constant companion through the hardships. " _Did they live happily? Did they...die...happy?"_ I ask quietly.

Crushing remorse suffuses his face as he turns his eyes away, giving me all the answer I needed. " _Ir abelas, da'elgara_."

Figures wave and blur as I fought the selfish tears from falling, fists balling at my sides while I battled the feeling of hopelessness. " _It's alright, Larry._ "

Since the beginning I had been coming to terms with never seeing home again, even before Flemythal's dooming declaration. A small part of me recognizing long before that this strange world would be where I lived and died, but I had held on to the slim hope I could go home. I needed something to keep me going, a reason to press on through the pain and the horror. Then it had been dashed and all that was left was the desire to live. To live freely and find happiness. To find a place I could belong. But was that even possible for someone like me in this world? A world where those with anything that set them apart were made targets? Where those with power only greedily wanted more and would covet a being considered a 'god' by their religion?

I looked at Solas and I believed. Believed it was possible and that I had found my happiness. That I could remain as myself and be sheltered from the repercussions.

But Aogan, a man who was likely the closest thing to a god, had been killed. Murdered for nothing more than conceited avarice and driven to madness in a fate that was perhaps simply one of misfortune, but what of the four others? Were they merely unfortunate as well? Did they somehow deserve such an end? This world craved our presence yet simultaneously strove to break it, and it was unclear how long mine would be tolerated once the 'Inquisitor' served their purpose.

I swallowed passed the angry bleakness, working my jaw while clearing my throat to throw my shoulders back resolutely. I couldn't change their fates but I could still do something about mine. So long as I yet breathed, something could be done. The present is what can be shaped, lamenting on the past would only pull me from the future. There were things I could do now, things I could alter with my own power, and I would do it. I refused to go quietly into the night. If this world expected anything different it was going to be slapped with a healthy dose of real world reality.

" _What became of them when they died?"_ Shoulders slump and eyes look anywhere but at me as perfect features etch in reluctance and anguish. _"Larry, please?"_

Lips move soundlessly in an inner struggle before he speaks as though the words were ripped from him. "Consumed by despair, desperation, wrath. Shredded, devoured...lost." He turns to me now, brow furrowing with pity, "their shield was gone."

Mutely I fold my arms, considering. Working through the Spirit speak to understand and find the truth. _"They added to the Blight didn't they?"_

"What remained...yes, _da'elgara_."

Lids lower at the that, contemplating what was being left unsaid before deciding it was better left for another day. " _You told me a fragment of Aogan is rooted in the Void. How do I get to him?"_

If I was going to survive and make any kind of life here, the Blight needed to go. The prospect of one breaking out during my lifetime and a swarm of Darkspawn gunning to make me a monster baby cannon did not appeal to me. If I removed the source then there might actually be a chance for the Blight to eventually be cured or at least contained. Otherwise anything that was done would just be putting a band aid on a gaping hole.

"Long have I tried to reach him but there is not enough me to make the journey. I see what you wish, _da'elgara,_ and I do not believe it can be so. He sings the end. Locked within its last barrier to forever reject the peaceful melody. His release means the passage of death and war of its lulling hymn. Even one of Will may not be enough." Larry alleges with a sad smile of acceptance.

 _In other words, cross the fingers no Blights start._ I think with a grumpy sigh. Wondering how much of an immediate problem it really was before Larry's pensive voice interrupts the convoluted ramblings.   

"I left once, desperate for help to end Aogan's suffering. I emerged to a world much changed from the one I knew. Glittering, dazzling, clean. Spires of dreams and light. Stability and peace warmly given...or was it all veiled vanity...I can no longer recall, _da'elgara_..." He stares out at the ever shifting memory before us, mind faraway and lost to ones none but he could see. "Reflection comes to me, shrouded in hushed whispers. Silence grasping for remembered spirit of a god. Reaching, clutching, clawing. Hungry for secrets to become what is pretended to be. Flee, must flee. Murderers, oppressors, deceivers." Breathes heavy, Larry blinks, seemingly coming back to himself and my presence beside him.

I link an arm through his, leaning my head against him, offering support and comfort. Feeling more and more pissed with each new tidbit about ancient Elvhenan and its rulers. Holy shit-balls did they deserve a major ass whooping. I was seriously beginning to question how much Solas was recalling with rose colored glasses. Magic, the return of the world's natural state; these things I wholeheartedly agreed with Solas on. But the culture, the political system...they were no better than the Tevinter he despised. He admitted the society itself was corrupt but there were times it almost appeared as though he forgot. With the restoration of magic; not just the elves, how do you stop suddenly super-charged individuals who've been persecuted all their lives from going rampant and becoming the thing they've struggled against just for a taste of revenge?

A 'god' Solas may claim not to be, but that is what he would need to become to keep it from happening.

I heave an exasperated breath, _you're lucky your butt's so nice._ Rolling my eyes at the amount of work Solas was putting in front of me.

" _Larry, you popped through when the Evanuris was still around. Was it close to the Veil going up? Do you know how it was done? Can Spirits do their sensing thing to tell anything about it?"_ Tilting my face up to look at him.

Lips pucker as his face scrunches in thought and my own press tightly together to avoid laughing at the sight. "Time passes differently within the Void. The grey was still, dreary, barren. Then one day it suddenly wasn't. Rage, confusion, anguish; they came like a rushing flood into a world of endless gloom. This is the closest I can tell of its conception, _da'elgara_. Thin, fragile, bold. Pushing back with a tingling, twittering song. The Veil reveals little, it is sealed. Whole."

I pat his arm at the expression of disappointment on Larry's face. The questions had been a long shot and I hadn't really expected to get that lucky in the first place. _"You're good, Larry. Don't worry about it._ " Chuckling when he maintains the sulky pout.  

Abruptly Larry perks up, his body straightening as a beaming smile surfaces. My brow lifts at the blatant joy, witnessing the equivalent of an Elven golden retriever excitedly spotting its master. "The wolf comes." He jovially announces as he gently disentangles himself and takes a step back.

 _"Larry?"_ Seeing that he was turning to leave. " _Where are you going? You don't want to meet him? Pretty sure meeting new spirits is like crack to him. He won't mind._ "

"It is alright, _da'elgara_. It is a simple matter to find him. You wished to spend time with the wolf. He makes you happy, your light is not wasted with him as your tether. So long as this is so, I am happy." Gleefully smiling, he pivots and blinks out of the memory without so much as a shimmer.

 _Such an odd, odd, spirit._  

Shaking my head, I toss my hands in the air before striding to a tombstone to sit and wait.


	55. Chapter 55

"Such a flagrant disregard for life. Detestable." 

I turn at the tone of angry disgust, a smile reflexively surfacing from Solas' presence as he saunters to stand behind my tombstone. His somber eyes regarding the contentious memory with pity as I'm pulled into the warmth of his embrace. The touch relaxing me to lean into the loving hold, reclining back until his body was the thing that kept me seated, secure in the knowledge he would never let me fall.

I rest my head in the hollow of his shoulder, covering the much larger hands with my own. Tightly hugging him to me as I savored this chance to finally have him alone after days of constant company. Feeling content and blissfully joyful in ways that only Solas was able to elicit.

" _We've seen worse I think_."

"Unfortunately. Sometimes it seems this land is nothing but a collection of tragedies, piled one after the other...I fear we will see many more before the end."

The calmly stated words were spoken with such despondency that I tilt my head to look at him. Fingers caress his knuckles upon seeing the grim acceptance written on his face as Solas followed the last moments of slaves driven to death. Hating the sadness that clung to him.

_Happy. He should only ever be happy._

" _If I conjure a dream, can you hold it for me_?"

I had intended to ask him about the anchor but it could wait. It still thrummed with the occasional energy but Solas didn't appear overly concerned by it and I wasn't in pain. If it was going nuclear I assumed he would be a little more depressed that his _vhenan_ was about to dissolve like noxious gas.

"Yes." His eyes brighten with intrigued curiosity at my request, replacing the bleak darkness as I had hoped.   

Smiling, I retain my grip on his arms while I kick my legs over the tombstone so I could stand, trusting he wouldn't let me drop. Closing my eyes when I straighten to help me to focus as I concentrated on forming the memory into reality. Wanting to offer Solas the nearest thing to what I imagined the Emerald Graves to be.

Ever so gradually a sprawling forest of colossal Redwoods takes shape around us. Their twining branches creating a thick canopy that allowed the tiniest rays of sunshine through to the lush forest floor below. Its densely overgrown ferns and moss covering the ground as far as the eye could see in a wild undergrowth so closely packed together it was broken only by the massive wood or patches of fallen leaves littering the earth. I open my eyes just as tendrils of fog begin to form, slowly ghosting through the green and lending the scene an air of tranquil mysticism that added to its subtle splendor.

"Is this another gift, _vhenan_?" He tenderly asks as I turn fully to face him, noting the memory was clearer and more distinct once Solas took hold of it. "It's peaceful here, I like it."

His warm gaze shifts from the forest to return to me as I drape myself against him. Wrapping my arms around his neck to lightly trail my fingertips down his skull, enjoying his smooth skin before halting the lazy petting to tug him down. Rising on my toes to meet Solas in a languid glide and pull of electrifying heat as strong hands drift down my spine to haul me higher. Firmly melding supple contours to hard in an act that left me putty in his hands. Chasing away all rationale thought with the indolent demand of his tongue against mine. Making me forget there was more to the gift as I succumbed to the magnetic touch. Greedily pressing closer to claim his mouth for deeper contact, attempting to wrest control of the languorous kiss.

Lips curve in a smug smirk at the eager insistence before I'm abruptly dipped, surprising a delighted giggle out of me. Elated, I brush laughing kisses to his lips as he straightens before pulling back. Reluctant to relinquish the soft heat after days of having to make do with brief presses that were over much too soon but wanting to give the real present.

" _Actually this isn't it_." Gesturing vaguely at the forest surrounding us. " _I just thought it would fit well._ " Grinning, I move to slip my arms under his, hugging him as I give in to the impulse to gleefully rub my cheek against his chest before shutting my eyes. " _Sorry if it doesn't come out right, haven't really been able to practice_."

I can practically feel the interest radiating from Solas as I endeavor to focus on what I desired and it upped the pressure not to fail further. It made me realize too late that I probably should have saved this for when I actually had a handle on it but I didn't wish to disappoint him. Today had been shitty for Solas and I wanted to give him something that would be unique in this world.

That thought brought everything into crystal clarity, driving home the desire to make it work, he deserved that much.

I inhale deeply to center myself, _haaa...he smells so nice...wait, no!_  and merely succeed in reminding myself that there was a sexy elf I could be climbing like a tree so I tried a different approach. Quietly I stand listening to the steady beat of Solas' heart, letting its strong rhythm lull my mind. Drawing from years of obsession to reproduce captivating grace with which to share.

The steady thump beneath my ear stutters as fingers tense in startlement when Tchaikovsky's Waltz begins to fill the air. Its ethereal melody resonating through the trees in a private concert just for him, rising and falling in a flittering pulse that brings a sad smile to my face.

The pound of Solas' heart races with the fluttering dance, sweeping my sorrow away. Making me wish I was skilled enough so I could enjoy his affected reaction at this moment. Torn between the longing to see his face or continue on. But as the final note plays, I found I wanted to offer him more. I wanted him to remain as he was now, fascinated and unburdened by woes. I wanted to feel the enchanted beat of his heart against my ear and I wanted to give him better memories then the misery of the day.

So I brought one more piece to the forefront. Allowing the haunting tune of Tchaikovsky's Finale of Swan Lake to drift over us. Concentrating to the best of my abilities to do the score justice. And ending up quite proud of the quality I was able to accomplish when a lingering sense of hope is left behind as the last trumpet fades.

I turn to prop my chin on his chest, a dreamy smile crossing my lips at the serene expression on Solas' face. Pleased I had been the one to put it there. Unmindful of eyes slow to open, as if he was relishing the moment and was loath to leave it behind. Silently standing until Solas looks down at me to reveal pools of grey somewhat dazed as though his mind was still basking in the melody.

"Beautiful." Voice low as gentle fingers comb the hair from my face. "And the like I have not heard. Another wonder pulled from idle musings, _my heart_?"

The pleased smile remains, unfazed by the mild prodding. I had expected it when the idea of introducing Solas to my world's music came to me. Choosing to go with something that could potentially exist here in Tevinter or Orlais instead of songs I knew by heart. Somehow things like, 'Barbie Girl' screamed red flags to me and, 'the Fade' as an answer for its existence didn't seem like it would fly.

" _The composer is Tchaikovsky, I don't know where he came from. I only remember that he made those scores for a play years ago_." Taking a page from Solas' book and providing an answer without actually answering the question I was asked. My smile widens and I strive not to laugh when the unhelpful response is greeted with a twitch of his brow and an amused hum.

Solas' hands clasp behind me, keeping me close as his eyes brighten with humor. "As I have been granted a precious gift, perhaps I should reciprocate." The subtle smirk of his lips telling me he knew exactly what I had done and was letting it slide.

Putting on a deadly serious expression, "d _one_." and firmly clamp my hands on his butt with an audible _smack_.

"I was of the mind to propose Chess, _vhenan_." He replies dryly.

" _Oh, that's not going to go well_." Chuckling at the thought of Solas' face when he realized I was fucking terrible at retaining anything chess related. " _You would not be the first to aim for the impossible. Many have tried, none have succeeded!_ " I state dramatically.

" _I_ am not most people. You are driven by goals. Likely with the right incentive, you would catch on quickly."

I open my mouth to counter, a joke on the tip of my tongue before a thought comes, bringing a devilishly gleeful beam. _"Do I get to pick?"_

Solas' lids lower at the look, knowing whatever was churning in my head was liable to be ridiculous. "I would listen to your suggestion."

" _Strip Chess_." I declare triumphantly with a wiggle of my brows. " _I lose an article of clothing of your choice for every two pieces you capture and you lose one of my choice for every one of yours I take. It's a fair trade considering you can mop the floor with me_." Tone saying it was an utterly reasonable condition.  

"Really?" Solas challenges in an expression torn between wanting to sigh, or chuckle, or possibly both. "You realize you are already at a disadvantage." Inclining his head to my minimal attire.

 _Pffphbt!_ Who cares! I was only gunning for one win but he didn't need to know that.

 _"Ho...Afraid are we? Two pieces too much of a handicap for you?"_ I tease, certain he would consent if I poked at his pride.

Eyes narrow at the insolent taunt. "We shall see." With a playful spank he steps from the circle of my arms and turns to a blanket that materializes out of thin air in a blink. Confidently walking to seat himself and drawing up a knee as a checkered board suddenly pops into being in front of him.

I all but skip to join him, pondering what else his nifty ability to create anything he wanted could be utilized for. Likely grinning dopily as I plop down, I inquire, " _Can you produce people too?"_

"A reflection..." Solas admits in a voice that was obviously wondering whether humoring me was a good idea.

" _Hehe. But you can._ "

He shakes his head with a sigh as pink begins to tip his ears, "no."

 _"What?"_ Innocently raising my palms and shrugging. " _I didn't request anything._ "

"I will not make duplicates of myself, Akira."

" _Wha-what? That's preposterous. I would never ask for such a thing..._ " I counter with a smile that was sure to cause my face to hurt later. " _How'd you know what I was going to ask?"_

"An educated guess." Wry amusement playing in his eyes as he rested an elbow on his knee and gestures to the board. "Ready?"

I listen while Solas ran through the basics, trying not to overwhelm me and really only retaining very few of the legal moves the pieces could do. The smooth timbre of his voice made it easier and harder at the same time to focus on the dull information being presented. Its  low inflections capable of making even the most monotonous things sound awesome while also nudging my brain to consider better uses for that pretty mouth.

I cross my arms and sit Indian-style while I consider what moves to perform. Positioning my pieces with no clear scheme or plan in mind, attempting to be as general as possible when seeking a refresher on what actions particular pieces could do so I wouldn't give away what was about to be played. Shifting Pawns and Knights around with only one aspiration in mind: capture one of his units before the end at any cost!

If the bumbling system was working or confusing Solas in any way, I had no clue. His features never strayed from their patient composure as pieces are seemingly moved without rhyme or reason. Though I did note it took longer than expected for him to reach his first two captures; whether because there might actually be a method to the madness or if he simply wanted to give me a chance was uncertain.

"Pawn takes Pawn. I believe the terms were two pieces?" I pinch my lips together to keep from smiling at the false absentmindedness and playful light in his eyes. "Right glove."

" _Oohh, starting out naughty I see. My, such a dirty bird._ " Chuckling at the choice as I peeled off the plated glove.

"There's time. The conditions were set by you, I plan to take full advantage." Eyes darkened to the color of a gathering storm rove over me, promising soft moans and tangled limbs as Solas rests his head against his fist. "I would be a fool not to savor exposing every inch of skin. Baring your graceful curves is a pleasing side benefit of the game." He meets my stare, a smug smirk flittering at the edge of his lips. "Your move, _ma vhenan_."

I blink stupidly for a moment, my brain having turned to butter at the sizzling arrogance being displayed. Insanely turned on to the point I forgot what I was supposed to be doing and what he was talking about for a second. Its sluggish, but eventually my brain notices his smirk and my eyes narrow as I remember my goal.

_That sneaky old man ninja-d me! Oh, the gloves are off now! Well, one is. But it's off!_

A Bishop is transferred forward, a Knight withdrawn, more Pawns crowded together; all plays that were probably entirely horrendous but I kept my eye on the prize. Not even deterred when two other pieces are captured and my left glove swiftly follows the right. Then finally--finally!--after my fifth unit is taken, it opens a move that allowed me to seize his Knight.

 _"Bishop takes Knight!"_ I virtually squeal in victorious delight. " _Wait, that's legal right_?" When Solas calmly nods, I vigorously shadow-box the air with a triumphant whoop. " _Fuck, yeah! Yes! Pants gone! Lose 'em sweet cheeks_."

Color blooms as Solas blushes across from me. Either from my enthusiasm of getting his leggings off or the embarrassing show of jubilation from taking a single game piece was anyone's guess, but I was too ecstatic to care. I grip my shins, a maniacally eager smile on my face as I lean forward, waiting.

"Would you not prefer a less...conspicuous...article to start with however? The belt perhaps."

 _"Pffphbt! What kind of nonsense is that? Nope!"_ I happily chirp. " _Hey, you could've had bra and trousers already. Don't blame me for your chivalry. Now it's time to pay the piper and flash the goods, let everything be free!"_

A sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh emanates from Solas as he stands. His hands slipping beneath the tails of his tunic, fingers presumably working on laces while I restlessly watched, wishing the hands were mine.

Fingers still and the smoldering heat of Solas' gaze falls on my seated figure, "I can practically taste your desire, Akira. It is welcome, but if you cannot hold back we must stop. Strong emotions draw too much unwanted attention."

Sensing other people's feelings while in the Fade was news to me. I never experienced emotional vapors--wispy farts--whatever; emitting off Solas, but then again, whenever he was nearby I usually didn't notice much of anything. It wasn't fair that someone could be so hypnotically alluring and illicit such carnal lust just from _breathing_. Thedas could have at least given him an absurdly high-pitched voice or made him an inept douche so I could've had a fighting chance.

 _Tsk_ , that wouldn't help either. He could just be gagged and problem solved...Bah!

" _It wouldn't take much to get me calm. In fact it would be very quick._ " I purr, even more exited after hearing words imbued with want and its evidence under his tunic.

The grey of his eyes is nearly consumed by black as a look of struggling consideration crosses Solas' features before he resumes with a deep inhale. "I would enjoy nothing better, but regrettably here is not the place. Be patient for now."

" _Oh, I think I'm a chaste Saint right now._ " I remark as material is torturously pushed down muscular thighs. " _Otherwise I'd be riding you like a pony....a steamy..well hung pony..._ " I wistfully sigh with focus locked on the area of my longing. Praying for stray gusts of wind to rustle the evil modesty flap that had become the bane of my existence and number one enemy.

" _Vhenan_...please...denying you is difficult enough without your avid regard." Taking a seat and arranging himself as before with elbow propped upon bent knee while careful to remain cruelly covered.

With a lick of my lips I suggest, " _I would love to make it harder._ " Nearly whimpering at the injustice when the fabric of his tunic jerks in response and a strangled noise escapes Solas at the proposition.

_Nooooo....! Curses to whatever moral do-gooder created stupid modesty flaps!_

Passion imparts a hard glint to his eyes, providing a severe set of his features as Solas brings a finger to his lips before declaring his move. "Pawn takes Bishop. Shirt."

Recognizing I wasn't going to crack that collected composure with words, and pouting disappointedly at the lack of penis being flaunted, I break my stare-off with his nefarious tunic. Deciding instead to adjust my battle tactics to a more... _tit_ -for-tat approach.

Keeping my expression carefully neutral, I wiggle the tight halter off. Making sure to bring it up in such a way that set my breasts free with a bounce before tossing the garment to the side. Hands return to my shins, squeezing them together as I pretended to consider the board and take the time to fluff my bosom before positioning a random piece.

The effect, if any, the pose had was questionable. Other than the stern heat of his gaze steadily focused on me, there was no change to his demeanor. His plays continued to be made in rapid succession and I shortly find a boot is the next thing to go.

Choosing to up my game, I brush the hair from my face, lightly trailing fingers through short locks to run downward in a lazy caress across collarbone. Drifting to faintly skim over sensitive breasts, idly tracing rosy peaks before hesitating to pinch and roll an aching bud. Feigning ignorance of the eyes hungrily following every action, at the body sitting taut as a bow while I surveyed the game.    

" _I believe this is legal..._ " Using a Rook to capture his Pawn. " _Right leg wrap._ " I call with an impish grin.  

The grin widens as my pick is immediately met with a _Really?_ expression and quirked brow before hands move to do as instructed. Fingers return to their seductive play, beginning to pluck and gently tug as I faked absentmindedness while observing Solas strip.

Burning want lurks in pools of grey as the flimsy wrap is tossed with a flick of the wrist, intently tracking each wanton pull before tearing away with a deep breath. "Electing to distract with feminine wiles?"

 _"You mean this?"_ I naively ask, cupping a soft globe in my palm and giving a squeeze. " _Since they felt abandoned from lack of attention, I thought I might as well do it myself. Is this distracting?"_ Purposefully lifting the full globe to drop with a jiggling bounce.

Lids lower but instead of answering, Solas shifts to the board, arranging his King and bringing me back to the game. Rigidly reigned control stamped on his features as the match progresses, his gaze seemingly involuntarily divided between the board and lewd fondling taking place across from him.

His diversion allows me to get his belt at the cost of my other boot but it was worth the utter randomness of his state of undress. Poor man looked like he was confused on how dressing yourself worked with his missing leg wrap and pants.

And it is glorious.

A giddy smile comes while I try not to laugh and nearly fail to catch when Solas skips a move that would seize my Queen, winning him my last scrap of clothing. I raise a brow at the deliberate pass while leaning back on my hands to study Solas.

" _You bypassed my Queen. Don't wish to leave me bare?"_

"Is that the impression?" A quiet inquiry filled with suppressed fire and desire. "Can there be no other reason?" Eyes wandering over naked skin in a sultry caress that was blistering with its intensity. I simply stand with a pleased hum, reaching to deftly unfasten buttons as Solas' body tenses impossibly further. His concentration now fixed solely on supple flesh being exposed. "The terms were not met."

" _I think it's close enough._ " Smirking as I push fabric from my hips to Solas' nasally inhale. I step from the pooled material, and saunter to stand before him as my progress is unwaveringly followed. His leg instinctively straightens as I amble close and I drop to both knees over his shins. Leisurely sliding my palms up to massage muscular thighs while a look of harsh passion struggling to remain restrained darkens Solas' expression. " _Not going to enjoy your prize?"_ Arching as thumbs inched higher on his inner thighs.

Unfathomably smoky eyes lock on my mouth, his nose flaring as the last shreds of his control snaps. Strong hands abruptly seize my arms, hauling me forward to straddle his lap as Solas' demanding mouth descends on mine. Fusing our lips to swallow needy moans while a hand fists in my hair, angling me where he wanted to get the most out of the merciless ravishment. Ruthless in his devastating exploration until it was difficult to think of anything else.

I grip his shoulders, drowning in the sensation of Solas' sinful mouth, holding on for dear life as I'm ground against the proof of his desire. His hand directing my hips to roll in maddening strokes over insistent flesh impeded by an infernal tunic. My fingers tighten in frustration, craving the feel of him, not his hellish attire. I wedge a hand between our bodies, desperately seeking the hard length beneath me, tugging accursed cloth unceremoniously out of the way. An approving moan escapes as hot velvet fills my palm. Running admiring fingers down his thickness before rising enough to seat him at my entrance.

I wiggle to slide the broad tip through my seam, undulating against the slight resistance of his entry and grasping Solas' shoulders for leverage to slam him home. His hand immediately leaves my hair to seize my ass, halting me to instead guide me to sink down his cock in a slow plunge.

The demand of Solas' kiss tempers as he lowers me with a breathy groan. His fingers squeezing my cheeks together to fully bury himself with a grind of my hips, forcing me to spread my thighs wider so he sank impossibly deeper. I whimper against Solas' firm lips, experiencing small discomfort from his size but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of having him inside me as inner walls greedily flutter over his shaft. Eager for the delicious drag and pull as it found every aching nerve.

Hands knead my ass while I'm rocked to ride his thick length in shallow pumps before the grip tightens. Lifting me to the point he's nearly withdrawn before driving me down in a hard thrust, wringing blissful moans as Solas slides me over his cock at a punishing pace. I cradle his head as lips ardently move against his, awash in a sea of desire as my channel quivers from the need to come. So excruciatingly close from just a few rough pumps that my mouth and hips begin to take on a feverish quality. Solas' sounds of pleasure join mine as his concentration slips at the onslaught, feeling his body tensing as he fought to stave off his own release until I found mine.

Then all at once the ground beneath my knees changes and a foot dips in chilly water at the same instant Solas suddenly pulls out. Ripping his lips from me as I give a cry of denial, his breathing ragged as he rests his forehead against mine. Face looking pained as he shakes his head with a curse. "We can't."

The raw Fade surrounds us in place of Redwoods, Solas' focus having faltered to the point he couldn't keep the memory going and dropping us smack dab in the middle of a gritty path. I didn't care about that however, or the fact my foot was sitting in a frigid pond. I was aflame and so near the verge of finishing I was certain I now knew what the female version of blue balls was.

The feel of Solas' penis slick with my arousal twitching between my cheeks is a torturous taunt. And I'm helpless to stop the desperate roll of my hips to try and sheathe him once more. Solas' hold on me tightens, halting me with almost bruising force as he attempted to calm himself. I kiss his lips, tweaking them apart for a brief taste before moving to press my mouth to his jaw and trailing my way to the top of his collar.

" _Solas, don't stop. I'm so close._ "

" _vhenan_...please..." Feeling his stressed swallow beneath my lips.

I kiss and nibble to his ear, gently giving the sensitive shell a bite. " _Solas. Fuck. Me._ "

Fast as lightning I'm tossed to the side to land flat on my back on a suddenly cushiony earth. My body barely touching ground before Solas is spreading my knees and covering my much smaller form with his own. Hotly sealing my mouth as Solas hooks a leg to open me wider when abruptly the rumbles of the Fade's rendition of terrible roommates interrupts him.

 _"Fenedhis!"_ Swiftly catapulting us out and into the waking world.


	56. Chapter 56

The thunderous pound of Solas' heart sounds in my ear as I'm lifted by the heavy rise and fall of his chest. Obviously I hadn't been spooned to ensure he didn't become a mattress since I'm brought wide awake with a jolt atop him. Excruciating desire seemingly concentrated at my clit instantly bombards me as if it had its own pulse when I wake and I arch against the thick hardness beneath me, desperate for relief from the throbbing ache.  

Magic densely coats the room, leaving a stifling impression in the air that sets the horses shuffling restlessly and companions irritably rousing as I bolt upright with a preoccupied attempt to mentally wave away my unruly magic. By the lack of holes or gashes in the walls, Solas had managed to keep it from running rampant other than the uncomfortable mugginess it was causing.

A dark expression of cold severity crosses Solas' face from anger at himself, or sexual frustration, or perhaps both as blue-grey eyes of inconceivable beauty stare up at me. If the look was intended to be a deterrent it was the wrong direction to take. It drove the searing want higher, pushing me to undulate over his rigid length, riding him through the thin layers of fabric. I fist the material of his tunic in my hands, uncaring of the backs turned feet from to us as they grumpily stir. Strung so tight I was certain I would come just from the sultry strokes but wishing for him instead.

"Solas, I need you, come with me." Tugging his tunic with a breathy whisper and moving to rise.

" _Bleh!_ What the frig'?! Inky, stuff your creepy magic shite. Feels like it's in my mouth! It shouldn't be in my mouth!" Audibly smacking her lips with an expression of disgust on her face as Solas and I stand.

"If you're going to use the Fade for amorous trysts at least have the courtesy not to choke us in our sleep." Dorian tetchily adds.

 "Sorry! Working on it!" Grabbing Solas' hand to haul him with me but unable to get anywhere before Bull waltzes in with people in tow.

"Good, everyone's up, some more than others by the looks of it. Someone fishing for a quickie in plain view? So racy you coy rascal!" Grinning broadly as he wiggles his brows and receiving an unamused, pinched expression from Solas at the good-natured ribbing before Bull tosses his head towards the new additions. "Found these idiots bumbling around outside." Hooking his thumb at the Inquisition scouts filing in behind him.

Five minutes! I just needed five minutes--no, less than that! Then ask me to be Inquisitor-y and I will gladly Inquisitor like no one's Inquisitored before! And I planned to state as much to Bull when Solas mutely slips his hand from mine.

 _NOooo.....!_ My features twist in vehement protest at his withdrawal and I turn a murderous glare to the Scouts sharing nervous glances amongst one another. Right eye twitching, I silently convey that the interruption better be for damn good reason or The Crazy was going to spill all over them. It seems to only ramp up their anxiety more as mouths wordlessly gape like fishes.

The scared stand-off is what Blackwall strides into a moment later, his eyebrows raising in confusion at the odd scene. "Are you alright, Inquisitor? Did I miss something?"

"Nope, just going to flip a table." Voice deadpan as I give the Scouts a narrow-eyed glower.

~

Our ride to the next Venatori campsite was unpleasant as fuck for the first two hours. Lust and hormones being at an all time high, running wild and demanding I answer the yearning heat following me. It left my insides a quivering mess and seriously considering calling a halt just to shove Solas to the sand and use him as a sex toy, audience be damned. And this was even after pretending a bathroom break so I could take the edge off prior to departing.

The poor excuse hadn't fooled anyone, but other than the initial jokes and wisecracks upon waking, everyone cleverly kept their mouths shut after witnessing the barely contained vengeful doom while speaking with the Scouts. And lucky for them, they actually had something worthwhile to give us. Not only did we now have a way of commandeering the mountains of treasure; with strict orders not to touch the Nug Wand of Destiny; but they brought a clear route to the nearest slave camp and whereabouts of the Scouts shadowing them. This alone kept me from vigorously shaking the crap out of someone. Definitely wasn't worth the epic blue balls, but it kept the Scouts from being rattled like a money jar.

The warmth of our breath mists the air in small puffs as hooves sink and slide through sandy earth, carrying us farther into vast desert and freezing twilight. Guided only by an ocean of starlight that seemed to spread endlessly above us.

Having been too lazy to rummage for my coat, I hunch deeper into the blanket strewn over myself. Finally to the point that every shift in the saddle wasn't the equivalent of a torturous stroke against my clit so I could at least crankily stew at being denied naked Solas time without worrying about an embarrassing moan escaping. There was no telling how long we'd been traveling for or how much longer until we reached the canyon pass that was our destination as the landscape was nothing but dunes afore us, leaving me in a hellish sexual limbo for an indefinite period. And letting the butt-hurt simmer to the extent I nearly miss Sera's call.

"Oy! What's that then? Anyone else see Vinty Tits?" Indicating a sandy incline far in the distance and slightly to our right.

I squint, trying to see what she did and coming up empty along with Dorian and Blackwall. Us humans simply spotted sand while Solas and Bull were quickly able to identify Sera's find, confirming we might have happened upon a patrol.

Unspoken, reins are pulled to veer to investigate, fearing they may warn the main body of our presence if ignored. However it was probably more along the lines of the potential for slaves traveling with them that the team wished to track them down.

Clear as the night was, we almost covered half a football field before I glimpsed the dark silhouettes of the Venatori. Their shadowy forms scrambling along the top of a steep dune before vanishing over to the other side. Gradually the barren terrain began to have a disjointed appearance, its mounds of infinite sand seemingly disconnected and broken-up. Drawing closer, the source for why it appeared so yawns before us. The chasmal mouth of a colossal gorge snakes off to our right, flowing North and curving around the large dune the patrol was last sighted upon.

With its proximity and the sharp slope of sand directly ahead obscuring visibility, we err on the side of caution and dismount fifty meters from the hill's base. Hoping to avoid putting them in the crosshairs as losing our horses or pack animals in this desolate wasteland was comparable to a death sentence.

"No visual and no prints. Either they're waiting or following the canyon. Best we-" tilting his head to Blackwall and I, "-get up there and take a little look-see before risking the horses, Boss."

"Means ya'll are on protection duty then. Make sure none of us get shot in the ass. Again." I remark dryly with a icy shudder when I toss my blanket to hang on the saddle horn.

"Cold, Boss? Need us to hold on while you bundle your delicate person? Wouldn't want our fragile wallflower to catch a chill."

Snorting at Bull's jab, "HA! Whatever you say Nips. _Pew!"_ Thrusting my chest out with a point of my index fingers.

"Now that you mention it, they are quite perky. Maybe that's the plan, blind the Venatori by giving them a good poke."

"Oh!" I exclaim with a nod of agreement at Blackwall and pat Solas' hip as I pass to join the warriors.

"They are not 'perky'. They're robust! No, rugged. Yeah, rugged...makes them sound-" Bull's voice fading as the three stride for the giant dune.

With a shake of his head, Dorian gathers magic for a shield spell alongside Solas. "Have to admire our bravery for trusting them with our lives. Or does that mean we're merely insane? Hard to tell anymore."

An amused snicker and soft smirk answer Dorian's quip while they watch their companions. The Inquisitor materializing her Spirit Blade as they confidently march to the knoll's base and start to trudge their way up. Lumbering to scale halfway to the top before they abruptly halt and form a loose semi-circle.

"Wha-- _Nhahahaha_! Are they playing Hammer-Sword-Trident?"

"I'm surprised we're not dead yet." Dorian states drolly as a sigh comes from beside him while they observed hands gesturing in rapid succession before Bull and the Inquisitor throw their heads back dramatically and Blackwall victoriously pumps his fist.

Dejectedly Blackwall is waved on, allowing him to proceed alone while they stood at the ready below. Laboriously he digs in, kicking up sand as he completes the climb. His body scarcely crests the peak before he's viciously yanked up and over, utterly vanishing in the blink of an eye. Instantly they race forward to help, shouting for Bull and the Inquisitor to wait. Hopeless to do more but sprint as fast as their sinking footfalls would permit as both disappear before their eyes amid a sudden hail of arrows.

Their hearts pounding an anxious drum as the screams and yells of bloody battle mockingly drift across the sand.

~

"-Yeah, rugged....makes them sound rough and dirty."

"So you're saying you have dirty pillows, Bull?" Creating my Claymore with a grin.

"Harsh. That's harsh, Boss." He kiddingly sulks amid Blackwall's chuckle.

Together they slog through the sand, feeling the tingle of the mages' shields envelop us as we clamber partway to the top before stopping to consider the best way to check the situation above.

"Should one person pop their head up in case there's a trap?"

"How do we decide who goes?"

A thought immediately comes to mind and I smile broadly as I put my left fist out. "There is only ever one way!"

"Hammer-Sword-Trident?" Blackwall laughingly asks but places his hand in. "Nothing that comes from you should surprise me anymore."

"Challenging a spy to a game of facial cues and mental warfare? Now you're just giving me things." Bull's muscular arm joining the circle.

"~1-2-3-Shoot!" All three placing their choice at once and promptly gearing up for another round. "Shoot!...Shoot!...Shoot!" Our fingers cycling through signs in rapid order until Blackwall unexpectedly one ups us and both Bull and I throw our arms in the air at the loss with disappointed grunts.

"Ha-ha!" Pumping his fist triumphantly. "Enjoy your wait." Grinning as he spins to trek the remainder of the dune.

Heads stare straight ahead, keeping Blackwall in sight as we patiently wait for him to reach the top and deliver his verdict. Anticipating smooth sailing of either signaling the others forward while we lured the enemy or sliding our way back down to the team and pressing on. What we did not foresee was the instantaneous lasso of energy that looped around Blackwall the second he began to peek over the ridge. Violently jerking him forward and out of view before we even realized what was happening.

Boots dig for purchase, struggling against an arduously slow Fade Step to swiftly arrive at the dune's summit. The distressed shouts of our companions dogging each step as Iron Bull charges close behind. Cresting the hummock to the paralyzing shock of over a score of Venatori mages and soldiers lying in wait. Converging on a besieged Blackwall, stabbing and bashing in a brutal attempt to break through ethereal wisps shrouding him in a protective fog. The twang of countless bowstrings loosing at once echoes like a sinister melody, punching through the stupor as arrows strike one after the other. Driving me back with a stagger, shields flickering against the heavy volley.

Toes plant, resolutely holding their ground, leaving deep furrows as magic fails with a glittering burst. Its sparkling light warming my skin as I dash for Blackwall to the strum of death releasing. "LET'S RUMBLE COCKSUCKERS! BRING IT!" Reflexively angling my claymore at a slant before me, its thick blade becoming a guard from the deadly barrage.

"SHIT YEAH! WHO WANTS SOME?! YEAH, YOU WANT SOME!" Unhesitatingly chasing right behind, his huge body unwavering as shields shatter and flesh punctures. 

A ghostly mantle of red crawls across the sand, stalking our hastening footfalls. Engulfing the battlefield within a ring of frenzied intent as a great shockwave zooms past, tearing the earth beneath me with a force that cleaves through the enemy ranks.

With a running leap I lift the massive blade high, collecting magic on the razor's edge. Vaulting into the midst of the combatants with a downward chop that strikes a man's upraised shield in a move that disperses my energy in a potent surge. Knocking nearby men to the sand with its vibration of power and creating an opening for Blackwall to bound to his feet.

He pushes off in a charging lunge, plowing through Venatori with his shield, wedging a path straight for the middle before spinning on his heel to slash out. Men duck and attempt to deflect the weighty hacks of Bull's axe as he mercilessly carves a course for mages to our left. Savagely pitching fully armored Venatori over a shoulder like children when any tried to stand their ground. Magic streaks through the air in spheres of lethal beauty. The heat of their electric tendrils a scorching lick across my cheek and legs as I quickly bring Spirit Blade up in a block. Experiencing the hard slam of energy ricocheting off while pivoting into a slide step. Increasing its weight to drive the claymore in a wide arc into a woman's chest with a turn of my hips.

Her body shoves into an advancing Stalker, taking them both to the sand as I jump over their bodies in a Fade Step. Phasing under a shield hook and bending to avoid a mace as I press to the right, aiming for mages and archers positioned beyond. A rogue cuts in my way, throwing a high kick, " _BAM!_ Right in the kisser!" Parrying with my left arm and whirling to punch him in the mouth with the claymore's pommel.

Gentle currents suddenly swell, encasing me in an ironically calm breeze while a sensation of being cruelly prodded hits my hand and Spirit Blade promptly dissolves in a wash of blue as two Zealots rush at once. "You hungry?!" Chucking globs of magic at their eyes with a flick of my wrists and swiftly closing the distance. I heel kick the first to stun her before wheeling on the other, " _POW!_ Knuckle sandwich!" Sending a plated right hook to the Zealot's face. Blood immediately gushes as she stumbles back, covering her nose. Sensing the first woman's presence approaching, I contort my body to narrowly avoid the swipe of her blade and hop to get into her space. "Double serving!" Jabbing her in the lip before following it with a hard cross to her chin.

As she reels a leash of energy whips around my ribs, snatching me from behind to viciously launch me into the air. Catapulting me deeper into the fray and right into a fully armored Brute.

I bounce off the barreled torso like a ragdoll, flopping to the ground with a winded _oomph_. Flipping over with a cough as Tank on Legs confidently steps to stand above me, coldly hoisting a halberd high to hew me in half. " _Geh!_ Back off deez nuts!" Using my shoulders for leverage as I lift my hips to enhance kick him directly in the taint.

The heavy weapon falls from unresponsive fingers, making me curse when its bruisingly dropped on me as the Brute topples with a shrill squeal clutching his genitals. Crimson blooms, bathing the front of his trousers and down his armor as I roll away to pop into a crouch.

Venatori surround on all sides, moving to engage either the warriors or myself who was the most vulnerable. With a sweep of his shield Blackwall bats a squat man away at the same instant another lunges to slice the back of his knee. He collapses as his leg buckles, fluidly spinning into an awkward kneel to parry the second strike and countering with a slash. Screams and grunts drift from enemies ruthlessly chopped or bodily lobbed by powerful arms as Bull hacks his way indiscriminately through men and women. Seemingly indifferent to the rivers of blood trailing from countless injuries.

Hands grip smooth leather as I unsheathe both daggers, phasing to deflect a stiletto with my left and stabbing out with the right. Burying the blade in the Stalker's exposed throat and twisting to enhance kick another in the sternum who thought to flank me. Biting cold spears my back, causing me to arch against the bitter freeze with a surprised cry of agony. It's painful chill feeling like a knife to the kidney and making my heart stutter for a moment. Gritting my teeth, I thrust my left dagger in the Stalker's gut, swiveling him around to become a meat shield as magic brutally riddles his body. I shove the struggling man forward a few feet before the slackening of his muscles warns of his imminent fall. Having nearly outlived his usefulness, I power a heel kick to punt his body into two mages.

Chasing the body with a sprint, I gather energy at my daggers, preparing for barriers as Venatori charge to intercept. I cycle into a Fade Step, trying to ignore them when an arrow abruptly lodges into the eye of one of the women, spinning her around with a snap. Three others rapidly join her as familiar magic whisks past to slam into the unsuspecting Venatori, clearing a path to the mages.  

As badly as I wished to glance behind just to catch a glimpse of the team, there was no time. With full force I leap at a Spellbinder, spine bowing and bringing both sharp tips down simultaneously, shattering his shield like delicate glass to sink into his clavicles. Riding the shocked gurgles while magic from an interrupted spell curls against us and we crumple to the sand. A shiver races through me, goose bumps rising as the tingle of energy being summoned comes. Automatically I throw my weight, using the momentum and dirks to roll the Spellbinder's body. Draping him over me even as the body violently convulses. Experiencing jolts and numbing stings shoot up my arms while warmth splatters across my face.

Releasing the hilt, I place my hand in the center of the mage's chest, pushing with all my strength and magic I could speedily muster. Propelling the corpse into the stunned mage with callous efficiency. I twist to get to my feet and promptly kneel low in a flash to evade the energized body being hurled back at me. I shove off with a deep lunge as the Spellbinder stands, cutting out and slicing a gash over the top of his thigh.

With a hiss of pain his staff is brought down in an attempt to strike my skull. I raise my left arm, thrusting magic upwards to repel the blow and absorb some of the jarring impact. Punching out with the right, I plunge my dagger in his side as a knee rams my chin. Nastily snapping my head back and sending me to the ground. I fight against the migraine building from the rattling hit, extending both palms forward as the Spellbinder's staff flares with power.

Our magic collides with a tumultuous burst, rippling out in an expanding sphere that briefly pins me to the earth and pitches the mage ass-over-end across the sand. Hastily I scramble to my feet, scanning over the field and feeling incredibly naked without any weapons before I Fade Step to get into the thick of the skirmish. Hoping to locate one of the team on the other side and staying within their protective line of sight in case things went to shit.

Likely sensing the crackle of magic, a gigantic Brute turns at my approach, readying a heavy maul with which to smite me with. I skid to a halt with a nervous squeak, wanting none of what he was offering or to be anywhere near the range of his weapon. Energy crudely gathers at my hands while I backpedal in a hurry, trying to stay out of reach as I'm menacingly stalked.

A flicker of lavender wanders into my peripheral and I shift my gaze to witness a Gladiator woodenly loping straight for the Brute. It must have caught his attention as well because with a confused, "The fu-" he pivots just as he's enveloped in a bear hug. The light suddenly blazes brighter before an explosion of lilac and red consumes both men. I shut my eyes with a lift of my arms to shield myself as droplets hit me in a slightly warm spray.

_Solas. Where was Solas?_

If Dorian was nearby then he should be as well. With a hard flick I lower my hands, uncaring of the gore now laying feet from me in my quest to find him.

Mages, Archers, Stalkers, Zealots; all weave and flitter through the chaos, no longer separate from the bloody mêlée. Carving and casting their resistance to our steady press to victory. Bull roughly digs a shoulder into the stomach of a Zealot, easily tossing him away before hacking down another. Venatori spread out, hesitant to get too close and its then that I see him.

Standing dangerously near the sandy slope of the canyon's lip, Solas energizes unsuspecting combatants over the edge while utilizing the gorge as one less attack point. Pausing to redirect a Spellbinder's fireball, Solas turns his back at the moment a trio of Stalkers dart from the shadows.

With a cry of denial I Fade Step, intending to go to him when men break from Blackwall and block not only my way but my view of him as well.

Energy still ghosted around my hands from before and I used it now. Adding even more in my fear to get to Solas, unwilling to leave anyone who would hinder me further as I sling everything I had directly at their hearts. Bodies jolt and knees buckle as lances rip through armor, mercilessly impaling those standing between me and my goal at the same instant searing pain cuts across my lower back.

I stumble forward, feeling heat freely dripping down and soaking my pants. Snarling, I move to unleash my power in a torrent of rage but thoughts of retaliation flee when I spot Solas again.

Gracefully his staff spins and twists to deflect deadly strikes. His movements a lethal dance as bones are broken with cold efficiency and limbs are expertly diverted aside. Crimson stains his tunic as Solas remains in constant motion, unable to waver even for a second lest he provide an opening. The gaping maw of the canyon a chilling companion at his flank and leaving him with no way out. Two more Venatori dash to aid their comrades, skirting the gorge edge to bypass the fray as archers draw their bows behind them.

Archers or fighters? No matter my choice it would mean his death.

_No! No!_

I phase, uncaring of the wound at my back and unknown foe behind, desperate to get across the sand.

"SOLAS!"

Sliding to a stop before my choice, flinging potent magic to spear the two Venatori as the sharp whistle of strings releasing fatefully sings.

Agony tears into my ribs an instant before the vicious punch of an arrow lodging in my right breast wrenches me around. Throwing my body to the ground and over the side to suddenly tumble down the sandy bank.

"NO!" Tendrils of warm magic frantically attempt to seize me, their touch caressing but unable to latch on. Their aim too clumsy and hasty to find purchase. "DORIAN, PLEASE!" His shouted plea answered by the sensation of dancing energy joining to try to grab hold.

It slowed the descent but both were too distracted to catch the uncontrolled careen.

I feel it all. The pain of wounds widening, of arrows jostling and rending flesh, of grains of gritty earth prickling and scratching skin as I plummet down the incline. Everything registers in my mind.

Then nothing as it's all abruptly gone and I'm swallowed by the darkness of the abyss below.


	57. Chapter 57

_whatdidyoudowhatdidyoudowhatdidyoudo....What have you done?! Why?! Idiot! Fucking idiot!_

In an instant the frantic coils of magic and rasp of sand utterly vanishes. Replaced by a split-second of weightlessness, a sense of sinking in the pit of my gut as I descend into darkness. Feeling the cutting chill of air rushing over naked skin, of its friction dragging and wresting wood. Feeling nothing but its insubstantial grasp as I'm plunged through shadow. Experiencing the overwhelming terror of recognizing there was naught to catch me but unforgiving earth.

Sensing its presence drawing closer lightning fast as agitated buzzing suddenly thrusts through the fear and pain. The blazing radiance of the anchor becoming a blinding flash to wrap me in its glow as the sensation of being consumed--devoured; and impossibly falling further encompasses me. Pulling me into a world of forlorn light to witness my plummet to a desolate land. The hastening approach of barren ground a heart-stopping sight that I was powerless to fight against before I'm abruptly stopped with a jarring yank feet from it.

Breaths little more than rapid pants, I stare in wide-eyed fright. Mind uncomprehending of the narrow escape as I hover suspended above the ground for precious seconds then unceremoniously dropped.

I crash down with an agonized scream, body bowing against the bombardment of pain. Tears forming as I helplessly lay in a heap of paralyzing sensations. Every breath; every motion, an excruciating torture only amplified further by being within the Fade.

Even as the feeling of being drowned by suffering and despair submerge me in their waters, a sliver of awareness remained. A fragment of understanding that drove me to try to roll onto my side, to push to survive. The Fade wasn't a haven or sanctuary as it currently was, it would be my demise if I didn't leave. I was too broken to be here; too weary. If I didn't succumb to the influx of pain and shock, then it would be demons. They already came as a moth to a flame when I was whole, how many would waves of agony bring?

The sharp bite of torn flesh stills my struggle to turn, its harrowing ache bringing warmth to freely stream down my face as I strive to retain a shred of determination. Wanting nothing more than to surrender to the hurt and lie there, wishing for it all to end.

With a hiccupped sob and slow exhale, I lift my head to raise trembling fingers to my left side. Taking in the sickening sight of a broken shaft protruding from my right breast and ravaged left ribs where another had been violently ripped away like a needle threaded through skin. Gingerly examining mangled flesh in a feather-light graze before quickly pulling away with a whimpered cry. Battling to stifle quiet tears threatening to become a wracking weep at the pain and hopelessness.

"Solas...solas..." Losing the war as choked sobs begin to build. "s-solas..." Knowing the calls were in vain but desperate for his steady strength to guide me through this labyrinth of wretchedness.

My face crumbles as hot tears fall, hearing the echo of rumbled hisses over eerie silence. No longer caring about moving or simply creating a small rift with which to slip through as I attempt to use the desperation to fuel the anchor. Compelling it to flare to life to punch a hole in the Veil to send me home.

Sinking, being towed down, swallowed. Then intense disorientation hits all at once as luminous green enfolds me within its light. Its shine lingering to float above me even as the scratching of sand grates against the wound at my back and the angry stirring of the anchor continues to prod my palm while I stare at a dazzling night sky through a watery curtain. Mind too busy being lost in a fog of residual emotion from the Fade to experience gratification at returning.

Or to realize I had opened a giant rift that hadn't automatically sealed behind me until a pop emanates from it, penetrating the pain filled daze.

I raise the anchor; trying to focus when it connects to fix the damage I'd caused. Doing my best to concentrate on thoughts of mending instead of misery. The edges weaving together so sluggishly it was a miracle demons did not pour forth in a swarm when the snap and crackle of a successful seal finally comes.

Drained and with nothing left to give, my hand limply falls as I lay unmoving beneath a starlit sky. Vaguely noticing I could now see the canyon's ledge high above while I sought to take shallow breaths and get the tears under control. Attempting to endure the racking agony until it lessened to something more manageable or I could shore myself up enough to try turning again.

The chirp of crickets and serene tranquility of the ravine floor is infuriatingly ironic while a nagging prickle of concern poked at the corners of my consciousness. Bleeding, freezing, exhausted; I knew I couldn't stay a pitiful lump and wait to be found. I needed to act, needed to force my body to move.

Bitter cold made all the worse by injuries seems to pierce my very bones as I labor onto my side. Becoming a double-edged sword as muscles stiffen and wet cloth creates the feeling of needlelike jabs while on the same token its arctic chill serves to decrease the flow of blood to a persistent trickle. Its continual seeping as I shift to my knees with pained puffs a grave danger that I tried not to dwell on.

Growled whimpers pass my lips; ringing loudly in the stillness as I strain to stand on shaking legs. My body swaying while I gaze up at canyon walls towering around me. "Dorian!...Bull!...Anyone!" The calm beauty of night the sole answer to pathetic pleas. "...anyone...please..." In defeat I hang my head, fighting against renewed tears.  

_Weak. They're too weak. The cries are too soft for anyone above to hear. But it hurts; it hurts so much just to get those few out._

Eyes squeezed shut, I clench my jaw and resolutely shove the sob on the verge of escaping back down. _Walk. Just walk. You can do this. They're coming. Just walk to meet them. You've been through worse, you can do this. Just for a bit, just move for a little bit. They'll come any minute, just push a little more._

In an attempt to keep from jostling wood, I release a thin breath in a measured exhale. Bracing myself with a sniffle, I use my left hand to wipe the tears and snot from my face before taking tiny steps in an awkward shuffle. Stubbornly placing one boot in front of the other as I order my body to press on.  

~

Hues of grey and blue have begun to paint rock and sand alike, warning of encroaching dawn. Its impending arrival muted by dulled senses and shadowed cliffs. The tears had dried long ago, leaving dusty tracks in their wake as staggering footfalls carry me forward. Mind adrift in an unseeing haze with merely the single-minded purpose to keep going compelling me.

The hum of life during the night had waned until only the lonely whispers of a gentle breeze across the sand remained. Lulling worn body and psyche into a thoughtless trance that recognized nothing save the desire to survive.

Boulders, brittle weeds sparsely growing; none draw attention as I pass. Even the sudden break in the canyon wall cleverly camouflaged by jagged overhangs and hint of gleaming runes doesn't receive so much as a blink.

"Hoo...What have we here? Got a runner do we?" Men moderately armed sidle from behind ruined stone. Jeers and smirks on their lips as the six take swaggering strides to block my path. "Looks like someone played too rough." Hoots and snickers of laughter go up at the remark, their eyes lighting up with cruel glee at the sight of snapped wood.  

"I don't remember there being a Dalish among the slaves..." A stocky youth comments with a perplexed frown.

"How would you know, Ben? You've been out here too long if you're desperate enough to eye one of those filthy vermin." Another disgustedly pipes in, causing the teen to flush at the insinuation.

"No! That's not--I didn't--I don't-"

"Regardless, this one's damaged. Harkom and Venarus aren't going to waste magic on it." The first and likely the leader states as he unsheathes a dirk from his boot and walks to stand in front of me. His gaze raking over exposed skin, observing the vacant glaze of my eyes and wobbly legs before turning his head to address the young man with a sneer. "Unless you want a go first and don't mind sticking your prick in a dirty knife ear." More yowls of mirth echo and playful shoves of the youth. "She might be half dead but I'm sure there's enough life left to get your pebbles off, boy."

_...wrong...they're not them...team...not the team..._

"-ay....."

"Huh? Got something to say?" His focus returning to me, body bending down to try and catch the low mumble.

"...you're in the way..." Chin lifting; eyes clearing.

"Wha- _AAHH!"_ His horrified shriek pierces the coming sunrise as the tang of magic flavors the air. Splashing crimson in a graceful arc before the shocked soldiers.

"M-mage! She's a damn mage!"

"She can barely stand, don't be afraid!"

Indecision, fear, trepidation; the emotions war on their faces as hands race for weapons. Their split-second of hesitation their costly mistake as the thrum of energy gathered by rage resonates.

"You're in the fucking way!" Freeing the vicious currents to slash in a torrent of power.

Sharp, deafening whirs reverberate off high walls in a thunderous knell, drowning out the terrified screams of dying men. Veiling the chasm floor in chaos and grainy clouds for a brief moment before an unnatural quiet unraveled by the stuttered wheezes of a faltering body descends.

_...tired...so very tired..._

Legs quake, struggling to stay standing and hold strong. Their gradual buckle showing a failing battle as I crumble in a slow collapse. Flopping to an ungainly sit, torso wavering as it too appears to be steadily dragged down by an invisible force. Try as I might, limbs refuse to heed demands to move and I found myself sinking farther and farther into exhaustion, fruitlessly striving to resist the pull of unconsciousness as four figures waver then emerge from the dust.

Lips lift in a snarl at their approach, not about to submit willingly to whatever they had in store for me.

"Easy...easy...We mean no harm. We're not with them." A tall elf soothingly coos with a raise of his palms. Wary, he and the three humans halt feet from me, taking in my hostile expression I was no doubt wearing and the damaged state I was in.

They were cautious. Good. Perhaps I could use it to get them to peacefully depart. The magic was there but I couldn't call it. I had reached the threshold and my body couldn't handle more. This was my limit, it was the end of what I could give and unless I planned to die with them, magical intervention was out.  

"o-oh really? a-and I sh-should take your w-word?" Not letting the growl slip, keeping the appearance that I was still capable of posing a threat, anything to buy more time.

They had an elf in their midst but that didn't prove they were friendlies. A third party hired by the Venatori, bandits, a decoy patrol; there were any number of things they could be. They were lugging packs in the middle of a region controlled by Venatori forces, no way was I going to believe whatever they were selling.

"We're agents of the Inquisition. My name is Cyrlen. Have you heard of us?" He gently asks, maintaining his reassuring tone as he crouches where he stood. Likely his attempt to be non-threatening. And I did not miss that the three others remained silent and allowed him to handle the exchange. Meaning he was either in charge or they supposed an elf would calm the elf.

 _Fat chance._ I think with a mental snort as I drowsily eye the alleged Inquisition 'agents'.

A Vallaslin was absent from his face. Marking the dark haired male as a city elf and along with the short staff casually slung across his shoulder, a Circle Mage or an Apostate at that. Short swords and bows were carried by each of the humans except the woman. A bandolier of throwing daggers and a small hatchet accompany her longbow. All facts not necessarily red flags considering the events of the Conclave. However, as he and his three compatriots were draped head to toe in riding leathers without the slightest hint of an Inquisition insignia to be seen, I wasn't about to lower my guard.

A raspy snort does escape while I look upon their emblem-free attire. "th-the ears don't make me s-stupid. crest. mi-missing crest." Wanting to laugh at their attempted lie.

"We wished to blend in. Mine is in my bag, I can show you." He hesitates, waiting for my response. Since there was nothing I could do anyway, none comes. Holding my gaze, Cyrlen unhurriedly slides the pack from his back. Keeping his motions measured as he produces a green hood with a large iron pin fastened to its edge. "See? Would it make you feel better to have it?" Extending the badge to me in offering.

All the resistance and fight vanishes from my body at the sight.

Scouts. These were the Scouts shadowing the Venatori. I'd made it. It wasn't my team but I'd found salvation. How badly I wanted to cry in relief at the news but knew I had to sustain the brave facade.

Completely ignoring the proffered pin, "p-please help me." Voice quivering and doing my damnedest not to sob even as the fleeting thought that these people had merely killed the Scouts and were using their brooches as a ploy flittered through my mind. But I was past the point of caring. Deliverance, rescue; it was right there and these people were presenting it.

With a smile and nod to me, he turns to his comrades. Sending them off with his pack to disappear inside ruins the Venatori soldiers had exited from before tentatively sidling up to my side. With delicate hands he sits me straighter so he can survey gruesome wounds, his brow creasing in obvious concern at what he spies.

"Maker's breath...what did they do?" When I simply blink at him, refusing to reply, he swallows with a hard shake of his head. "I need to clean your injuries before they're healed. When the others give the all clear, we'll get you inside. But first, this has to go." Indicating the broken shaft. "Can you stay quiet if I do?"

"...yes."

"Good." The kind smile meant to be encouraging as he firmly braces himself with a hand at my shoulder is anything but. I squeeze my eyes shut, gritting my teeth in preparation for the pain I know will come. "What's your name?"

For a moment I debate whether I should volunteer it before deciding it probably didn't matter. "akira."

"You've done well, Akira. Bear with it just a little more alright? Here goes."  

Without pause the arrow is violently yanked free, its wet suction as muscle shreds from its withdrawal covered by my agonized growl. I topple against the Scout. Leaning heavily as warmth immediately seeps over an already soaked breast, flooding me with severe lightheadedness. The hailed 'all clear' a few moments later barely registering through the swimming fog before I'm abruptly hefted into strange arms.

The rosy luster of runes dimly fills my vision while the chill of stone and staleness of space long abandoned perforates worn senses. Saturating the air in a feeling of antiquity as I'm lain on cold tile.

"Hand me their skins. Everything they got." I hazily hear. The scrapes and scuffs of gear being searched drifting over to my limp form before Cyrlen hunkers down beside me. "The area is safe for now but we need to be careful and not draw attention to ourselves. Try to endure the pain, I promise to be as quick as I can."

Callused fingers soothingly pet the hair from my brow while a flurry of motion bustles at my periphery. The sound of wet plops and sloshing precede the Scouts as they join us, moving to position themselves in an anxious cluster behind their mage comrade while they stand back to watch. Worry and uncertainty an easy expression to read on their faces.

Uncorking a skin with a sniff before inching closer, "it will be over before you know it."

Eyes close, muscles tense, and hands clench as water is cautiously poured just shy of lacerated flesh; testing my reaction before being tipped to cascade directly over tender edges. Wringing unavoidable pained whimpers at the searing sensation of liquid lacing through butchered tissue. The nasally pants punctuating muffled whines a feeble display of fortitude.

But the misery...the misery was tolerable. I could grit through it, I could staunchly last until the end. 

Or it had been.

I believed I had experienced the worst of it, that this was the final stretch to suffer through then it would all be okay. But simple irrigation was not what Cyrlen had in store.

When the unexpected lick of magic strokes inside stinging wounds, the tortured scream is instantaneous. My body arches and instinctively attempts to flee the cause of its hurt as fingers swiftly seize my shoulders. "Hold her down."

Hands promptly snatch my wrists while knees firmly plant on flailing biceps; effectively pinning my arms to the floor as a belt is thrust forward. "She's too loud, someone's going to hear. Shut her up!" The woman hisses with a wave of her strap.

"Forgive me." Cyrlen sadly states before wedging the thick leather between my teeth. Not even waiting for me to clamp down or letting me prepare myself before beginning the agonizing treatment again. I fight the restraining grasps, viciously bucking to escape the devastating pain, indifferent to the added harm as smothered screams sing over stone. Hastily Cyrlen straddles my hips, attempting to still the desperate thrashing. "Get her legs, Ida." He orders with a grunt.

Magical energy wisps through the ruins, unconsciously summoned and left to float in lazy strands. The pretense of strength, of mettle; it disperses like smoke when pitted against the brutal rinsing. Sobs openly spring from my body while breathes come in heavy, rapid gusts through my nose as strangled cries further steal much needed air. Succeeding in blackening my vision with the vain struggling and mindless hyperventilating before a cold voice suddenly cuts into the din of suffering.

"You picked the wrong person to touch."

Actions halt and bodies stiffen at the growled words filled with lethal intent from behind. Any response or defense unable to come before Ida's weight, than that of the other Scouts is abruptly gone.           


	58. Chapter 58

"You picked the wrong person to touch."  

Coldly spoken words stated without a hint of mercy drift from the ruin entrance before Bull wrenches Ida into the air. Without being given time to react to his sudden appearance or their companion's predicament, the Scouts are swiftly seized by magic and bodily hauled to slam against luminous stone. Their suffocating gurgles replacing smothered screams as fingers desperately claw at invisible binds.

Through the woozy fog I struggle to roll, to raise a palm to stay my team's hand. Vaguely sensing more than seeing Cyrlen's frantic attempt to summon energy to defend themselves only for it to be pitilessly locked down. Veins of fire and light slither beneath their skin; ghosting to destroy from the inside out as I weakly whimper a protest, drawing everyone's attention enough to halt them.

With a nod to Dorian, Solas withdraws his magic and lets him take over so he can move to kneel beside me. In a matter of seconds steely greys have already taken note of discarded skins, of cloudy pools haloing my huddling form, of work not yet finished.

Concern, fury, guilt; they darken his gaze, the single tell on a tightly composed mask.

"Sera, a poultice. Quickly." Solas commands over his shoulder before looking back to me. Brows crease, the composure slipping at the sight of ravaged flesh as tender fingers comb the hair from my face while the other gently pulls leather from between clenched teeth. "You're safe. We have you, stay awake a little longer. Were they aiding you?"

"..s-scou...in-inqui..." Trying to focus on Solas through the hazy mess surrounding my mind. The puffed breathes that jostled more than helped made communication difficult but I recognized they needed confirmation that these people weren't the enemy. "...solas...s-stay..." The tears falling now not from pain, but terror and regret. It was so hard to fight the lull of sleep and I wished to remain with him until the end. "pl-"

"Hush, _vhenan_...I'm not going anywhere." His palm cradles my face in a warm caress, stroking the tears away with an expression I had never wanted to witness. Quiet sorrow, fear; they mar Solas' features until Sera races back with potion in tow and hastily shoves the tonic under his nose. "I will stop the bleeding as best I can. Dorian, heal what our new addition irrigates." Ruthless eyes meet the recently released Scout, "move, or act as if to harm her, and you will regret not being killed outright." 

"My arrows have no problem finding arseholes." Training her bow on the Scouts for emphasis.

"You'll be surprised how many bones can be broken before you faint from the pain."

"Haha, not to worry though, Ben-Hassrath know just when to pause for a drink before we keep going so you won't take a nap." Bull cheerfully informs them with a cross of his arms and feral grin from beside Blackwall.

Distrust, unease, its nearly palpable hanging in the air. Coating everything in a shroud of suspicion and reluctance as members gather. Cyrlen's response, the unveiled threats, none of it mattered. I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready for the pain, for the grating burn. I couldn't do it again. I wanted to shut my eyes, block out what was about to happen, but I couldn't. If I closed my eyes, I wasn't certain they would open again.

A tightness lodges in my throat while I stare up at the face I trusted beyond all others. My fingertips inching to lethargically graze Solas' knee in a silent plea as mages take position and ready themselves.

He pauses to grasp my hand, understanding and love in his touch as full lips are adoringly pressed to blood-stained fingertips. Seemingly uncaring of the gore and grime while he held me. The electric warmth of his magic infuses my worn body a moment later, spreading to locate clots and edges. Fastening and pinching vessels in rapid succession until it was forced to slow to find smaller bleeds.

With a look to Dorian and Cyrlen, Solas faintly lifts my head to tilt the vial's contents down my throat. The instant, sour taste of an expired, filmy smoothie fills my mouth as I'm forced to swallow the disturbing health potion before heat and a throbbing sensation are promptly following on its heels. Its pulsating beat increasing as production is sped into overdrive and much needed blood rushes to starved tissue.

Like a finely weaved web breaking; the ache of coldly numb limbs thawing and of oxygen deprived cells enriching severs the threads of sinking unconsciousness and glaring details previously missed surge to disgusting forefront.

Tinges of purple and black peek from beneath gore, discoloring complexions already turned ashen from exertion. Crimson blots many a countenance and tunic, tarnishing fabric and skin alike while lines of exhaustion bracket strained faces. The livid red crusting, but still fresh in places where wounds are repeatedly stretched and pulled.

I reach for a gash below Solas' right ear, feeling rage and hating the sickening sight. Lips work wordlessly, trying to make my breathing cooperate so I could order him to heal his injuries first before the seeking hand is caught and brought to rest against his chest instead. The lucent blue from our clasped hands cast Solas' features in woeful shadow as Bull enters my field of view. His expression one of grim apology when bending to hunker down above me.

"You'll thank me later, Boss." Without allowing the mystifying declaration to compute, a sharp tweak is felt at my neck and then abruptly the nothingness of oblivion descends.

~

Incredible stuffiness compressing my skull and shivers racing through my body even though I felt as though I was boiling prod me to groggy wakefulness.

Mouth dry as dirt, I drowsily loll my head to scan the surroundings. A second of confusion as to where I was and how I'd come to be there grip me before the events of the...day?, flood back. Alarmed now, I rise somewhat awkwardly on my elbows, searching the dwarven room for my teammates.

Spotting the floundering, Sera leaves her post by the entrance and trots to my side.

"You're up! Gave us a scare when you pitched tits over. How you feeling? 'Cuz you look like if shite could vomit."

I can't help it, it cracks a smile even as crappy as I felt. "fine. a little hot, but fine." And it was true. Other than the pressure and weird hot-cold plaguing me, it appeared everything else had been mended. Not even a vague sense of soreness or tiny twinge came when I tentatively moved. In curiosity I peer down at my right breast and push the blanket someone had thrown over me to inspect my ribs as well.

Nothing.

A non-descript scar, a streak of raised tissue, a miniscule mark perhaps --nothing. There wasn't a single blemish marring smooth flesh to indicate the terrible trauma it sustained. Amazed, I skim my fingertips over perfect skin in utter disbelief, unable to accept there wasn't some huge crater or scab disfiguring me.

"Oh! I'm supposed to give you something if you said that." Still dazed, I watch as Sera snatches a nearby skin and a packet wrapped in fronds. "Here, your elfy honeypot -- _ugh_ , can't believe there's two of them now--said you might develop a fever."

Shakily taking the proffered items I ask, "where is everyone? what happened when I went over the cliff? is everyone alright?"

Sera didn't seem to be in as bad a shape as before, bloody sure, but it was dried without the presence of injury underneath and though fatigue darkened the circles under her eyes, they were clear and alert. It lessened the dread that was squeezing my heart in a vice grip to know the others were likely tired but whole as well if Sera was left to babysit.

Although it begged the question of what the hell they were currently up to.

Plopping down to sit Indian-style, "you mean after you jumped to become a stuck-pig?" Snorting because I couldn't deny I had stupidly done exactly that, "Solas had one of his 'my brain tickles! I feel the Veil's ballocks twitching!', realized you used the anchor to survive the fall. Just had to follow the messy bits then heard your scream. Lucky for Scout Biscuits, Bull went horns first. Otherwise we'd be owing the Inquisition new spy breeches."   

My face scrunches in revulsion when I pop the pasty looking medicine ball on my tongue. "so it's all good with the scouts I take it? is everyone outside then?"

I could see the gear and equipment littering the room along the walls, the bedrolls in varying stages of rumpled use. There had obviously been enough time for everyone to rest and while that little nugget clicked, the faint jingle of a bridle and huff filters from the left archway. Adding further to the mystery of suspiciously absent squad members.     

"The Vinty-shits camp is nearby and bringing in more lil people. Can't leave it and let them do as they please so everyone's gone. Onion teats said it wasn't very far but the slaves have had a rough go. No telling when they get back."

It sounded exactly like something the others would do, never mind the fact they probably were beat to crap and in need of a long recuperation period. However I was stuck on Sera's nickname for one of the Scouts, or I assumed it was a Scout. "onion teats?"

A wide grin spreads across her face and she rocks back on her butt while wiggling her brows at me. "Did you see 'em on that lady agent? Well, maybe not, busy dying on the ground. But _woof_ , the kind that'd make you weep at the sight."

With a laugh and shake of my head, I lay back, "shame on me. i'll be sure to rectify my blunder and ogle her shoulder boulders."

" _Nghaha_...boulders..."

~

I feel them through the murky haze caging my mind; cool, gentle fingers stroking the sweat from my temple. A loving touch that had branded itself onto my soul and one I would recognize even when all other memory withered.

I shove against the prison, trying to break from its hold and swim to the surface to answer those hands. Nearly succeeding before they disappear and I'm lost once again to the abyss of sleep.

When next I wake, it's to the noise of familiar voices debating amongst each other. The differing opinions on a plan of action for handling the freed laborers creates a nagging buzz that does the trick of poking me awake. Blearily I listen to thoughts of suspending our mission in the Wastes to transport the people to safety while the argument was made that ceasing at this point would be abandoning any slaves yet alive at the remaining site.

While the sound of getting the hell out of the desert was awesome, trudging around playing nanny to people who likely now had a major case of hero worship did not. Plus, it seemed as though the members advocating guard duty still wanted to complete our investigation. Meaning we'd just be making a giant ass circle and retracing our steps.

Fuck. That.

Puffing out a breath and grunting, I sloppily sit up to address three of the Scouts and most of my team.

"The Scouts can take care of the captives and see that they get to Harding. We're here for Venatori. Leaving and returning is a waste of time when we're already working within a short window. We've basically cleared a path to base, the Scouts just have animals and possibly bandits--though seriously gunna question if there are actually people randomly farting around the dunes--to worry about." Staring straight at Cyrlen, "If ya'll can't deal with animals, Leliana needs to reevaluate you guys."

As I speak, I see the conflicting sentiments. Companions who wanted to be positive those poor souls made it to salvation and those who believed delaying liberating the final encampment would cost the lives of slaves who might otherwise have been saved. However at the reminder of the looming battle for Adamant and my firm choice to press onward, the dispute swiftly dies and one by one I'm given a nod of assent.     

"Understood, Inquisitor." The three Scouts promptly salute in unison.

 _Ugh..Someone told them..._ Giving my squad the stink eye while they snicker behind the Scouts.

"Good to see becoming a pin cushion doesn't bother your delicate sensibilities. How you feeling, Boss?" He asks with a smirk.  

"They'd have to get past her front _cushions_ first." Giggling at her own joke and miming breasts being hefted. "Get it? _Cushions_."

"Your flare for the dramatic would be all the rage in the Imperium. Dashing to the rescue of your lover, flinging yourself in the way of certain doom...Why, I think we witnessed one of Varric's books!"

Chuckling, "ya'll are buttholes, I want you to know that."

Looking like he was attempting to hold back and failing horribly, Cyrlen walks to stand beside my bedroll. "Mistress Sera made mention that you were feeling ill earlier. The medicine should help, but if you are still experiencing a fever, Ak-Your Worship, then I can mix more-"

"Didn't all of our reserves go to the sick?" Dorian innocently inquires with a devilish glint.

"I will forage for what I need." He states with a shy clear of his throat. "If I may?"

For a moment I blink dumbly at Cyrlen, wondering why he felt the need to ask my permission to go somewhere when I realized he was asking for my consent to check me over. Shrugging, I wave my wrist dismissively. It didn't bother me to suffer through a virus or whatever this was, I'd done it often enough in the real world, but I suppose the idea of their boss croaking from illness was making Cyrlen antsy.

He sidles closer and crouches before running a callused hand over my forehead and neck with an expression of such intense concentration on his face it was difficult to stifle a laugh.

"You're still warm...Any discomfort where you were injured?" At my shake, he continues, "that's good." Leaning back, Cyrlen studies me, and not with creepy awe or reverence, but with open respect. "It's extraordinary to have survived so much, I can't imagine the strength it took to get here. You're-"              

" _Cough_. Taken. _Cough._ " Bull loudly hems from behind him while making a show of thumping his chest.

Pink lightly blooms on his cheeks. "-a very strong and determined woman. They're admirable traits and it was an honor to witness. If I can be of assistance or use to you in any way, I'm proud to serve, Ak-Your Holiness-"     

"Lost-cause. _Cough_." Bull hacks. "Sorry, terrible cold." Emitting two pitiful girlish coughs. "Carry on."

Peak shades of crimson usually reserved for redheads flushes Cyrlen's face while muffled mirth clearly fills the room. "-Your temperature is high, I'll see about mixing another dose just to be on the safe side." Hastily he stands and makes a speedy retreat out of the room, leaving snickers of mirth in his wake.

Eyebrows raised and entirely baffled as to what had just happened, "where's Solas and Blackwall?"

Wiping his eyes, "Blackwall was whittling small toys for some of the children last I saw him, and your paramour is on guard duty. Would you like me to go get him?"

"Nah, nothing wrong with my legs. Thanks though." Reaching for boots and gloves someone had been kind enough to remove, "which way?"

"Entrance." Inclining his head toward the archway Cyrlen had used.

Shoving gloves in a pant pocket and stomping into my boots, I totter to my feet. The fuzziness and pressure bears down harder at being upright to the point I rub damp palms over my face in an effort to lessen the sensation of spinning before I head out.

Without the constant twitter of the team holding my attention, the low drone of a large number of people drifts to me as I walk into a short hallway. Its steady buzz making me nervous and hesitant to peek my head through the hall's entry when I draw close. Cautiously I flatten myself against the wall and inch to the doorway to peer around the corner.

The wreckage of a once colossal foyer devastated by age and the elements busily bustles with life. Bedraggled, malnourished men and women amble amid the rubble of collapsed pillars, chatting or caring for the sick and elderly. Quiet hope and optimism permeates the air as the meager offerings of what could be salvaged from the Venatori camp is shared by all.

Eyes wandering, I spot Blackwall's broad form seated on a section of wall, a hunk of wood in his callused hands as children raptly sit in a circle before him. Watching his every move and inquisitively firing questions that he patiently answered while he worked. I even spy Cyrlen checking on a particularly frail man near the ruin entrance and it's this that I zero in on. Sunlight and what was certainly the canyon floor can clearly be seen through the rather oversized opening, taunting me with its promise of freedom and Solas if I can but reach it.

Blowing out a breath, I bravely throw my shoulders back and stride out of hiding. Crossing my fingers and praying as I make my way to the exit that everyone would assume I was a random Scout or would simply not care I was the Inquisitor if they knew. Faces turn and eyes lock on me as I weave through the mass of people, spurring me to power-walk and definitely appear like an idiot as I book it to get the hell out of there before anyone can waylay me.

I keep at it until shoes hit sand and the dim shadows of dwarven ruins transition to that of the ravine floor. From the little I could recall of my fight in front of the tomb, the passage was the same except for the herd of horses idly corralled together off to the right which explained how the captives were expected to make it out of the Wastes.

Happy it meant I got to keep my mount, I move to search for Solas, sure he had to be somewhere within visual range of the horses. I've only gone three steps before I hear voices and halt.

"-anted to thank you for your help. As the Lady Nightingale's agents, we're told to expect death and I do. But you saved my life, I would be dead if not for you, and I'm eternally grateful." 

"It is unnecessary. We fight for the same cause, aid of one's comrades is common and incidental." Comes Solas' politely pragmatic response.

 _Man just does not know how to accept gratitude._ Shaking my head as I turn to return to the doorway to wait for them to finish their conversation. Perhaps I could pretend to be a rogue and stay in the shadows so none of the survivors could see me....

An amused giggle carries over. "That's a very judicious attitude to take. Don't handle praise well?"

 _Ah, hell nah!_ Lips sucking in and brows lifting, I instantly about-face at the flirty titter. Appreciating Solas' awesomeness was one thing, but trying to seduce him was poking the bear right now. Time to nip that in the butt and interrupt Onion Teats.


	59. Chapter 59

"That's a very judicious attitude to take. Don't handle praise well?"

Sera was right, 'Onion teats' indeed.

Striding out of the tomb's glyphed entryway, I glimpse Ida and Solas standing within the shadow of an overhanging ledge to my left. With hands demurely folded behind her back in a pose that thrust her breasts out farther, Scout Mammer Jammers gazes from beneath her lashes at a politely half-turned Solas. The flirtatious smile playing across her face instantly sets my eye to twitching and fills me with the desire to smack it off as I veer to join them. While there was a small sense of victory from the fact I won in the ass department, I couldn't help the twinge of jealously at her twin bounteous endowments. It had been a struggle just to reach a B-cup and she certainly had that beat by a _wide_ margin.

It made me want to punch her in her giant perfect tits. 

"Only when warranted.-" Catching my approach out of his periphery, greys dulled in detached civility flare with warmth, "Inquisitor." The stern set of his shoulders and posture loosening as he turns to give me his full attention.

"Love Bottom." Beaming in delight when the newest endearment earns a deadpan expression that said it was vetoed and he wanted a different one.

His low timbre, the open affection softening features lined with weariness; they melt the world away until he is all I see. Flooding me with the flutter of butterflies while I walk straight for Solas' bloodstained figure. Utterly disregarding Ida's presence as I cup his jaw in my palms before lightly skimming my fingertips below his ears and along his neck to assure myself he wasn't injured. His empty hand moved to rest on my hip as Solas instinctively leaned into the wandering caress.

"Are you hurt?" Worriedly running my hands to slide over his collarbone and down blood splattered tunic, eyeing the torn and frayed spots with dismay and anger.

"No. It is remnants from our encounter with the Venatori." His fingers brush across my temple, evaluating my temperature before tucking unruly hair behind my ear, "how are you feeling?"

Since he was already grimy, I slip my hands behind his back, pressing close to tightly hug him to me. "No complaints now." Sighing happily while burying my face in his chest; uncaring of the blood, dirt, and sweat. Even with the parts that had been cleaned somewhat from the wound irrigation, I know I wasn't much better, probably worse actually, but if he didn't mind then I wouldn't either.

Strong arms wrap me in a loving embrace. Protectively hunching to firmly hold me with staff in hand as the muffled, disembodied voice of Ida comes. "I...should take my leave. Your Worship. Agent."

Feeling Solas' courteous nod of farewell above me while I merely hummed, unwilling to relinquish my comfortable position. Knowing the exact moment she was gone by the hand shifting to thread in my hair and head bending to lay atop mine. Silently clutching me so tightly if felt as though he feared I would vanish.

"No more." Straightening with a gentle pinch of my chin, forcing me to meet anguished eyes. "You must put an end to these irresponsible acts. I have no wish, or desire, for such a sacrifice. Have a care for your life, Akira."

Well, it wasn't as if I had intended to get shot on purpose. I hadn't seen the archers and thought: 'Yeah arrows! Woo, give me some of that!'. I'd only...wanted Solas to live. I hadn't thought of the consequences of the choice, or what it was I was doing. I had simply moved, and having him alive and whole in front of me, I did not regret it.

However there was something in his expression, the heartbroken tone as he spoke; that said he was struggling and I was on thin ice. That there was more than what he was telling. I could see the precarious state and I recognized I would need to choose my words carefully.

So I settled on misdirect and partial truths.

Fisting the material at his back harder, I utter rationales that tasted like ash. "Actually I believe me --and Bull, jumped in for Blackwall. I throw in for everyone, and granted, it sometimes ends badly, but I don't do it with the intention of getting pummeled. Plus, the others do it much more than me and you never say anything to them. What about when Bull took a flail for Cole? Sera getting singed by a fireball meant for Dorian? Or when Blackwall and Cassandra covered for Varric? Not so much as a disapproving _tsk_ from you."

Eyes narrow in displeasure. " _They_ are soldiers. Trained to take and withstand punishment. With the exception of Sera, shielding the vulnerable is an ingrained lesson. One that is neither inherent, or been taught to you. As agents of the Inquisition, our lives are pawns to be moved and directed according to your will. Value your men, but never forget you lead them."

Suppressing my natural response to raspberry at him, I smirk, "ya'll are partners to me, so agree to disagree." I airily chirp and pucker my lips to indicate he should shut up and kiss me.

With a look bordering on disappointment at my answer, Solas bends to offer a quick peck before countering. "A noble sentiment, _vhenan,_ but ultimately a mistake. You seek to share power out of trust, believing it will not be misused. While one impartial woman may walk away from the lure of Power's corruption --no group has ever done so. There are few regrets sharper than watching that trust betrayed."

_Geez...Who hurt you?_

I reach for him, tenderly gliding my fingertips across his face, smoothing the furrow from his brow. "Maybe...but I give it anyway. Come." Pulling from his arms to guide him to a nearby boulder. "Sit."

In curiosity he humors me to half-sit, half-recline against it, automatically widening his stance to make room for me when I move to seat myself between his legs. After a brief hesitation, he leans his staff to balance beside us as I lift his hand to hold in both my own. His fingers twitch in a split-second of surprise when I begin to apply pressure to massage his palm before the other drifts to rest on my thigh. The tense exhaustion dissipating as the body around me relaxes and Solas contentedly nuzzles my ear.

Intense, embarrassed heat creeps over my cheeks at his attention and I fervently pray I don't smell as bad as I thought I did while I continue my ministrations. Nothing said romance better than causing your lover to uncontrollably retch. "Sorry. Probably rank enough to down a druffalo." Unable to help the self-conscious giggle.

Lips curving against my ear, Solas makes it a point to snuggle closer, his amusement palpable. " _Dar'em na blar'tel halam lea'vune_. I will endure."

I snort at the teasing tone, torn between being entertained by his response and incredibly turned on at having Elven seductively whispered in my ear even though I had no earthly idea what was said. I only knew it was damn sexy and that was good enough for me.

The hand on my thigh rises suddenly to graze the side of my face before Solas slips the other from my grasp and leans back to rummage in the pouch at his belt. With interest I twist around to witness him produce a thick leaf of some sort of succulent striated with hues of violet on its surface. The sweet fragrance of honey and freshly cut grass wafts from its lanceolate blade as Solas surrounds me once again and holds the plant in offering.

"Vandal Aria. Known for its range of alchemic compatibilities, unadulterated it serves as a mild fever reducer. Let it rest on your tongue and dissolve naturally."

"How'd you get it?" Impressed he'd found the time to locate one.

"I looked."

Rolling my eyes and fighting the bubbling laughter, "it smells nice." Taking the gift and rubbing my thumb over the silky exterior. "Guess I should let Cyrlen know he doesn't have to go a-questing for herbs." I idly muse.

There's a subtle shift of Solas' body, a marginal draping of his weight more heavily over my back as arms circle my waist. "There are many in our company who would benefit from a curative, even meager as it may be. Perhaps it is best to leave him to conduct his search."

The practical phrasing, the offhand air as he volunteered the advice; I was well versed in his clever attempts to maneuver situations and caught it now. I grin over my shoulder at Solas while working to tear the Vandal Aria into more manageable sized portions.

"You telling me to get rid of Scout Cyrlen?" Popping a chunk of leaf in my mouth with a playful lift of my eyebrows and was pleasantly surprised to find it tasted like dragon fruit.      

"I am reasonably certain I said nothing." Humming in challenge at the innocent reply, I press a piece to generous lips. "It is meant for you."

"You feel warm too. In the bitter war of stubborn, I win. Open." I order with a happy titter, my face splitting with a thrilled smile when he complies with a sigh.

Nowhere to store it other than gritty pant pockets, I hand over the remaining leaf to Solas for safekeeping. Patiently waiting until it was deposited back in his pouch and he was settled again before I confiscate his hand to return to my massage. Satisfied to merely lean back with my head on his shoulder and quietly knead the tension from his body in slow strokes while I savored the heat of his breath across my skin, of having the scent that strictly belonged to Solas encompass me.

He bows slightly, rubbing his chin against my hair while keeping an eye on the horses and canyon floor. His hand at my waist caressing in lazy swirls as he relaxed and allowed me to do as I wished.

Mutely we sit, taking pleasure in the simple fact of having the other near. Using the small acts, the stray touch, to convey our meaning.

I was content to remain as we were and desiring it to be so, but incessant thoughts kept intruding, demanding I pay attention. So few precious moments like this presented themselves during missions that I was loathe to leave it. But if I ignored the rational part of myself in favor of this momentary bliss, it might become one of the last I ever had with Solas.

And this stark reminder was all the incentive I required.

"When I went over, I opened a rift." The body behind me noticeably stiffens at the mention of the attack. Swallowing, I press on. Knowing I couldn't back down, that I needed to make use of this event. "I had thought it before when I ported to the Fade at Skyhold, but after being there again, now I definitely believe something feels off about the Fade. Is that why there are so many demons? Besides the fact people have a tendency to corrupt spirits I mean."

I firmly follow the angles of his hand, not enjoying the tension that I had put there, but realizing this was something that had to be done. The impromptu trip to the Fade had provided the perfect opportunity --and reason, for delving into matters of its state. It would be foolish to disregard this opening. I needed to know if the Fade was actually fucked up or if I was merely assuming it was, and I needed to know if this somehow played into Solas' drive to tear down the Veil.

So many moving parts, so many blank spaces that had yet to be filled...

"Anything is possible. The Fade reflects the minds of the living. It draws from and is limited by our imagination. Spirits form as a reflection of this world and its passions. We will never lack for spirits of rage, or hunger, or desire. The world gives them plenty to mirror."

"It's my perception of it then? It's not as though the Fade's spirit population is being infested by demons?"

_And the feeling of **wrong** is just my imagination?_

"The two are not so dissimilar. Spirits wish to join the living, and a demon is that wish gone wrong. If you expect to see a demon, the spirit will adapt."

"But I didn't expect to see demons, or at least not at first. So the 'demons'...weren't demons...it was me. I perverted them. I was so sure I never expected anything, that I always went in unbiased." Truly horrified and more than a little appalled at myself.

"No, no." Covering both of my hands with his with a sigh. "It is doubtful you have twisted any spirit you may have encountered. With your proclivity to attract both spirits and demons, it is far more likely it is as you say. Forgive me, my words were poorly chosen."

No, no he hadn't. I was right, there was something up with the Fade. He hadn't wanted to allude to it and tried to non-answer me. My alarm at believing I had unintentionally gone super-demon-spawner mode had forced him to slip. And oh boy was I going to jump on that.

"What's to say that's right? I'm probably warping every spirit I come across. I'm no different than the Kirkwall mages."

"You _are_ different." Visible anger colors Solas' voice, causing a twinge of guilt at the deception. "Those mages knew nothing of my friend. Worse, they did not care. The gentler spirits rarely seek this world. When they do, their natures do not often survive exposure to the people they encounter. If doubt, or fear, held your mind, what came of your purification would no longer resemble Wisdom. A purity of mind, of ready acceptance of a spirit's nature is paramount. Else risk twisting what you strove to save."

"Then what? It's the people's fault? The Veil's?" I ask with a tilt of my head to look up at him.

"Would it really be so singular?"

Incredibly proud I kept a straight face at the deflection, I try another approach. "Well the Veil is a construct right?"

With an expression I had come to think of as 'the instructor', Solas links our fingers before answering. "The Circles describe the Veil as a metaphysical barrier created to separate this world and the Fade. In my studies, I found that to be a vast oversimplification. Imagine if the Veil is an idea, the act of transition itself. If the Fade was not a place one 'went', but more like the state of nature, like the wind. A world where imagination defines reality. Where spirits are as common as trees or grass. Instead spirits are strange and fearful. And the Fade is a terrifying world touched only by mages and dreamers."

"I don't understand. How would that look?"

"Think of it as if opening one's eyes. Closed, you see the world as it is now: static, solid, unchanging. Upon opening, you see the world as a spirit would: chaotic and ever-changing. A realm where the imagined and the remembered have as much substance as that which is real. Spirits view the world as defined by will and memory, it is why they become confused when crossing the Veil. Imagination has no substance. And objects exist independently of how they are remembered or what emotions are associated with them."

"But that's assuming you have access to the Fade. Only mages and dreamers are capable of that." _At least right now._ "The Veil's a barrier...so does that mean it might hinder a person's ability to form a link with the Fade? Not just serving to keep the two worlds separate?" Already knowing the answer but needing to steer him to what I truly wanted.

"A question few scholars deem to study for obvious reasons."

_Oh. My. God._

Chuckling to hide the 'you're shitting me' expression at Solas' blatant side-step since he could still see my face, "all those years walking the Fade and you have no opinions to offer?"

I wasn't the Inquisitor, I wasn't going to fall for his diversions. I might not be able to come straight out and demand what I wanted to know, but damn if I wasn't going to push as much as I could.

"I have several." Solas smoothly counters with a quirk of his brow in challenge. "Though none that would be accepted by current standards."

He was so cute to think I would be so easily dissuaded.

Unlocking our fingers, I twist around to loosely drape my arms around his neck. Smirking mischievously and greatly enjoying this game of cat and mouse Solas had unwittingly started. "Ooh, so mysterious. Now I really want to hear. Try me, my Thigh Master."

It startles a short chuckle-snort from Solas before he seems to catch himself. "Hmm." Eyes dancing with humor as palms drift down my lower back to hold me close. "This is an odd line of inquiry. I wonder what drives such interest, _ma vhenan_."

Grin widening, " _Hehe_. Did I finally find something the all-knowing apostate is ignorant on?" My gaze shifts from his and giving into temptation, I trace the shell of his ear with the tips of my fingers. Fascinated by their shape and feel, finding them strangely lovely as I took pleasure in the small gesture."It's intriguing to me." Speaking frankly and stating what I truthfully believed. "But anything to do with the Fade is mostly viewed as a detestable riddle. You at least would answer me honestly." Or as honest as he could safely omit.

Solas turns into my touch, the humor dimming to a somber light as I'm solemnly given what I desired. "In my travels, there are impressions the Veil severed most people's conscious connection to the Fade. Cutting a pivotal center that allows one to draw upon its nature. Leaving an existence apart from itself with no concept of the cost to never dream. Content and never wondering what could've been. Instead, a construct meant to be a kindness unforeseeably became cruelty."

"Wow, basically likening everyone to a Tranquil; aren't you the seductive sweet talker." I jest with a jovial smile as grey eyes briefly look away at the mention of Tranquil.

More than a little amazed Solas had revealed even that much, I rise on my toes to press playful kisses on his chin. Hoping to show him I wasn't offended and would always be receptive to anything he wished to say.

With a dip of his chin, the tables are turned in a flash. What was intended as a playful display becomes a devastating union as exquisitely full lips seize pliant softness. Melding in a desperate caress tinged by sadness while hands lift me higher for a deeper tasting. The confident sweep of his tongue, the commanding slide of his lips; a sensuous torture as warm breaths mingle. Urging me to become little more than a mindless vessel driven by desire as I fervently meet each carnal stroke. Moaning my displeasure and trying to tug him back when Solas' mouth pulls away all too soon with a last lingering graze.

Not the least deterred, I kiss the line of his jaw, nibbling and wandering my way to the side of his throat. Hearing Solas' nasally inhale for calm as teeth lightly grip sensitive flesh and hips undulate against him.

"That will have to hold, _vhenan_." Longing and heat in the silk of his voice as Solas lowers me down his body to stand before drawing back.

Huffing in disappointment, I skim my fingers along the back of his skull, not missing the hint of grief that remained in his eyes. Lazily petting him as I considered the face that held me so effortlessly enthralled. I was lost on how to heal his pain, or if I even could. But there was one thing in which I could do and I would pray that it will eventually lead me to the answer.

Unwavering I meet Solas' eyes. "Say that was true. That the Veil blocked something within people. Could they get it back if it was gone? _Would_ it even be possible to get it back? Since the piece is gone already, would it even return and only children born after the Veil's dispersal would be restored?" Sucking on my cheek as I contemplated it all. Genuinely perplexed and attempting to reason through the branching, convoluted possibilities. "How would any of that even work? Would it change you?"

"How could it not?" Solas gravely retorts. "Such a fundamental shift would change anyone. Drastically altering one's perceptions, they would be a danger to themselves and others."

A worried frown creases my brow as I continue to study his face. "But would it be worth it? Would it be what people wanted?" He wasn't giving me anything I couldn't already vaguely put together myself. I needed something real, not guesses or assumptions.

A whisper of unyielding coldness hardens his features. The uncompromising edge one that I haven't seen since my first days being thrown into this world. "You presume I have a ready answer. If you are looking for clarity, I cannot help you. People live their lives bound by what they accept is correct and true. The wise must sometimes give people what they need, not what they want."

I arch an eyebrow at him at that. "The wise? Who determines who are the wise? The masses? Knowledgeable or long lived elders? Or is it only someone's assumption that they know better than everyone else? 'The wise must sometimes give people what they need'; that justification is just a pretty way of saying 'Might makes Right'. If you're strong, if you're in a position to lead, then you have the privilege of getting what you want. Whether you're 'Right', or you're 'Wise', it's all dependent on how much you're willing to fight for it. In a perfect world it would not be so, but this is how the world works and let's not pretend otherwise."

Lips part in an obvious bid to argue before Solas pauses and his expression softens. "That is a matter of perspective. But, when phrased like that, I must concede your point. You surprise me yet again, _vhenan_."

Chuckling as I gently wipe beads of sweat from his temple, "I surprise you by stating the truth?"

"No. Well, yes." Amusement brightening his gaze. "You express your thoughts without care of how they are received. Although there are times it can be..."As I gleefully raise a brow expectantly, Solas hesitates and likely thinking better of finishing that remark, he continues with a subtle clear of his throat. "It is comforting to see such frank sincerity readily displayed. Would that there were more who would do the same."

"Ho, oh no. No, you would not want that." Laughing outright at the picture of utter chaos such a scenario would elicit.

Probably getting a mental image of the same, the corner of his mouth quirks. "You may be right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Dar'em na blar'tel halam lea'vune: (Elven) Loosely; you will only ever smell of moonlit flowers.


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY!

"You may be right." Solas quietly stands, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he studies my face. Captivating grey eyes lovingly rove over my features, seemingly memorizing every detail before following lines of midnight blue with a thoughtful solemnity. Their penetrating intensity feeling like a burning caress as the amusement fades. "You are unique." His voice holding gentle pensiveness as Solas tenderly cups the side of my face. Briefly tracing the delicate curves of Sylaise's Vallaslin with his thumb before meeting my gaze once again. "These marks, you did not desire them."

Giving a blasé shrug, I slide my palms down his body to run my fingers along the inside of his belt. " _Meh_. Little late to do anything about it now." I jovially comment. The offhand response so automatic that it was blurted before I realized _whom_ I was using it on.  

Warm hands cover mine, halting their idle wandering to hug them to his chest as sincere eyes stare unwaveringly down at me. "Always so ready to accept..." He softly states with a hint of pride. "There is--another time for this discussion." Solas finishes with a sigh of regret as his attention shifts to something over my shoulder.   

Dropping his arms, Solas steps to the side and turns to retrieve his staff while I twist around in complete bafflement as to what had just transpired. My heart and mind racing as I looked to see what had been the cause of Solas' speedy backpedal and spot one of the male scouts marching for us.

"I was assigned next rounds." Joining us with a respectful bow of golden curls. "Anything of note?"

Politely inclining his chin in reply, "no more than you would expect of a desert floor. The horses bare close watch however, they appear restless."

"Yes, sir. Understood."          

"Then we will leave you to it." Cordially returning the nod of farewell as he gestures for me to precede him.

I instinctively fall into step beside Solas as we stride for the tomb entrance, sticking close enough to nearly touch while I lost myself to frantic thoughts.

_What was that? What the hell was that? He wasn't going to talk about removing the Vallaslin was he? No, no. That can't be right. He only brings that up when he backs out of revealing the truth. When Lavellan is almost more important than duty, than the past._

Unconsciously my fingers lift to clutch the sleeve of Solas' tunic, the fear and uncertainty nearly paralyzing in its ruthless grip. I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to give him up.   

"Akira?" Instantly halting with a worried frown. "What is it?" Stooping slightly to capture my attention and lock eyes.  

His hand on my elbow brings me back with a startled blink. The dazed fog clearing when I focused on the concerned figure in front of me. Calming me as I absorbed his comforting presence, no longer scared of such a foolish thing.

 _Wahh...You're such a twit. Freaking out like a boob. There's no way he trusts your weird ass or cares enough to let shit go. Plus, all the Vallaslin shenanigans happens way, WAY, later. The only reason he might bring it up now is because it's totally unrelated and not an 'oh balls, I need an excuse'. My laissez faire attitude about Dalish life...Solas' belief I was forced to wear a Vallaslin that I haven't exactly tried to correct...No wonder he would mention to 'coincidentally' know a spell to remove it. It's probably driving him bonkers every time he sees the bloody thing._ Greatly temped to snort at my moronic flip out. _And even if he did pull a Crestwood, who gives a fuck? I'm not going to take that bullshit. Man's mine. Just kick him in the shin, maybe slap some sense into him for good measure then it's all good. Pffbht! Accept duty my butt...silly elf..._

I soak in the sight of mesmerizing eyes fixed steadfastly upon me, of freckles adorably sprinkled across pale cheeks, of a small scar that was a stark reminder of likely servitude. And felt no fear.

A cocky grin spreads and I reach to fist the material of his vest in my hands. "It's nothing. I just thought of something useless and stupid. For a second I forgot who I was and attached myself to a shadow."

I wasn't the Inquisitor, wasn't Lavellan. I had somehow let myself fall into the trap of thinking it was my role. Allowing myself to believe I was powerless. I wasn't her. I didn't give a flying poop about what was best or dignified. Fuck compliance. Fuck obligation and propriety. I would listen to my gut and my heart. Solas could mutter excuses until he was blue in the face, I wasn't going to admit defeat gracefully. Idiotically I desired this man, and it would be a goddamn fight! Accepting nothing less than he no longer cared for me.

Having spotted Scout Terrordomes in my periphery chatting with a freed slave at the entrance, I tighten my grasp. "And in standard Akira fashion, it's time to handle some business." I pompously declare before leaning in to kiss the yielding fullness of Solas' lips. Using the grip on his tunic to tug him closer while gliding against the generous softness of his mouth. Licking the seam of his lips to tweak them apart and eagerly delving into his welcoming heat when they open with a breathless chuckle. Unabashedly branding him as mine for all to see.

When I begin to draw away lush lips follow. Pressing with firm, confident strokes as Solas' arm snakes around my waist. Keeping me in place so his tongue could move against mine the way he moved inside me during sex. Mimicking the seductive dance with a finesse that quickly wrings sighs of pleasure in embarrassing frequency. Expertly possessing and dominating my mouth until I can only hold on for dear life.

A last flick of his tongue, a playful graze of his teeth over my kiss swollen bottom lip and he's gone. Pulling away from my greedy touch with a small smirk.  

"If you wish to undertake a demonstration, then leave no room for doubt, _vhenan_."

" _Hehe,_ okay..." Smiling dreamily up at him. "What are we talking about?" Mind utterly blank and blissfully frolicking in rainbow land while Solas' mouth twitches with suppressed mirth.

"Hmm." The lids of his eyes lower over grey-blues twinkling with a smug light as Solas retreats a step and turns in the direction of the tomb. "Come and rest, _emma lath_."

Brain function finally returning, I happily skip to catch up to Solas. Beaming merrily as I hop to land at his side with an audible _smack_ to his left butt cheek. Unapologetically wiggling my brows at his jolt and silent look to behave.

Together we walk through the tomb's wide entryway, passing Ida and her companion on our way inside and I do nothing to hide the vindictive grin of triumph as we go by. Knowing the spicy make-out session hadn't gone unnoticed even with the poor attempt to pretend to be engrossed in conversation. Ida's refusal to glance our way and pink flushing her cheeks cinched it.  

Dickish, yeah, but man did it feel spectacular to shove it in her face.

The rest of the team was spread out amongst the people when we enter the foyer. Sharing tales of wonder and laughter, gossiping to some while offering assistance to others. Doing their best to alleviate woes and lessen the horror of what they had been forced to endure the tiniest bit. Giving their weary listeners a chance to feel a sense of normalcy even if it was but for a moment.

Solas brushes a hand over my hip, wordlessly urging me to go on ahead without him as he pivots to weave through the people on our right. Initially I move to follow before I stop myself. Watching instead as Solas advances to kneel beside a haggard woman despondently petting the hair of an unconscious teenager, an expression of calm and understanding on his face while he addressed the distraught human. I remain standing where he left me, biting my lower lip, unsure of what I should do.

These people needed IV fluids, clean bodies and clean clothes. They needed a sanitary place to sleep. They needed medicine. Things that were impossible and weren't going to be forthcoming anytime soon. Healing was out of the question. My magic was too volatile; the delicacy and precision required were two things that were never going to go hand-in-hand with my power. Leaving the alternative of herbal remedies. Too bad for them, but it was far more likely I would accidentally poison one of them then give an actual curative, having been quite spoiled by simply relying on Solas' and Bull's medicinal knowledge. I'd already made the mistake multiple times of almost touching the 'oh so pretty flowers' that were liable to burn the living crap out of your skin with their sap or cause uncontrollable seizures quickly chased by days of vomiting and excessive diarrhea.

As one might imagine, I had swiftly been banned from picking anything that caught my fancy until specifically told it was safe to mess with. Other than my ability to punch enemies real good, I was kinda useless.

It left me with two options: go take a nap; which was unlikely to happen since the heat was uncomfortable, or help with the people out here by providing an awkward attempt to be entertaining.

Blowing a long winded raspberry that drew many a gaze; _terribly awkward it is_ , I gamely nod before settling on joining Sera by the far wall.

I don't get far however before Cyrlen startles the shit out of me by seemingly materializing out of nowhere. "Lady Inquisitor," he respectfully utters from close behind, making me jump and swivel around with an, _"Ho fuck!"_

"Oh, uh, sorry. I didn't mean -I wasn't-" Glancing away and scratching his dark scalp shyly.

"It's fine, Cyrlen." Waving away the apology and interrupting his ramblings. "Did you need something?"

He doesn't get a chance to respond though as questions and badly hushed whispers flare from those who were within earshot.

"Inquisitor?"  "Look at that, she's barely older than a child..."  "That's the Inquisitor?" "It's the Herald."  "Wah...so small..." "Those rumors were true then? A Dalish is the Inquisitor?"  "No way...Andraste chose a knife ear as her messenger?"

My shoulders sag and I dejectedly roll my eyes with a sigh while the mutterings fill the room and my presence becomes known. I hear it all and ignore it, having become quite used to the mixed sentiments my identity originally brings. However the repetition of 'knife ear' with blatant hints of animosity spins me right around to stare one of the pricks in the face. I didn't give a fuck what I was called, in fact I took immense enjoyment of any hostile attempts to engage me, finding them to be quite hilarious.

But these remarks weren't directed expressly to me and I wasn't going to allow that bullshit.

"Call me what you want, hell, say whatever you want about me, I don't give a damn. I give more of a fuck what is in the soulless, creepy mind of a nug than what you people think of me. But don't you dare forget it was a 'knife ear' who saved you from dying like worthless trash. It was a 'knife ear' who healed your wounds. A 'knife ear' who freely gave you his supplies that will certainly be needed and he won't have because of his need to save ungrateful ass jesters. So say 'knife ear' one more time." Narrowing my eyes and taking a step to stand directly in front of the nearest offender with a cross of my arms. "Say 'knife ear' with that tone of disgust...do it and I will make you wish you had been left with the Venatori." I coldly promise.

Nervous fright descends and silence reigns as I battle to stay my ground, fighting the livid fury and desire to beat the snot out of the thankless racist garbage bags in front of me. _How dare these dickwads insult Solas. They don't deserve aid. We should let them fend for themselves so they don't have to suffer the humiliation of knowing an elf helped them. Too soft. The others are too soft._ Tightly clutching my biceps and taking deep breathes through my nose to steady myself while the vengeful thoughts churned.

I turn when a hand gently cups my elbow, pulling me from the angry inner rant.

"It's all right, Inquisitor." Cyrlen asserts with a warm smile as he looks down at me. "They have been through unfathomable hardship, I'm sure the offense was unintended. And even if it wasn't, I have certainly had worse thrown at me." Realizing he held my arm, he quickly drops it and purposely fixes his attention on the still anxious men and women. "Not to worry, we are going to-"

_Huh? Whatever..._

Proud I had kept my expression blank at Cyrlen's misconception, I about face to walk to my squad who had gathered at the end of the room. It wouldn't serve to correct him in front of the people I had just threatened about being respectful to their Elven savior and I was in no mood to stay and play the all-forgiving Inquisitor.

"Lasted a good five seconds before you ripped into 'em. That's a new record." Bull comments by way of greeting.

"They'll be no escaping Scout Moony Eyes now. I think I witnessed his heart fall at your feet in undying love."

"Sounded like the poor bugger thought the anger was for him." Blackwall sympathetically adds.

"Well I couldn't exactly tell him he was wrong when I just called people ass jesters not two seconds before for insulting an elf." I mutter with a flustered pout.

"You were right to let the matter rest." Solas states as he joins our circle, making the team complete and accounted for. "Although it would be better to correct his false impression sooner rather than later." He tacks on.

Snorting loudly, "look at broody bits gettin' all sulky!" Pointing gleefully at Solas' pinched expression before deepening her voice, " 'It matters not to me, _vhenan_. I'm sorry, I must go and cry into the Fade's bosom.' "

"Aw, come on, Solas. Don't weep into fake bosoms when the Boss' are right there."

"Yeah, Solas, what's wrong with mine?"  I demand in mock outrage.

Sighing in exasperation, "the three of you spend too much time together."

"Sidestep the question. Yes, good tactic." Dorian conspiratorially quips, earning an unamused _tsk_.

When the chuckles die down, Blackwall is the first to bring us to the task at hand. "The Scouts are heading out at dusk with the freed captives. No reason to put off the journey with supplies limited as they are. This ruin is what the Venatori were after, not sure how far they got though. The children didn't know much of the goings on."

"So we are to continue on to the third known encampment." Solas affirms with an understanding nod.

"Did anyone get someone to tell them if the Venatori excavated something or if there was anything they found?"

"Yes they did, Inquisitor." Ida confidently answers as she saunters to include herself in our circle. Right next to Solas I note with an irked eye twitch. "Laborers had chiseled through a rockslide blocking the tomb's vestibule the day before you found this place."

"Meaning they didn't have time to search anything then..." I muse with a tap of my chin in consideration.

"Exactly." She sweetly agrees with a look to Solas and an adjustment of her shoulders that heaved her chest. "Any treasure or artifacts would still lie within."

Lifting a brow but choosing to discount her motion as a possible attempt to get comfortable on account of those monster sweater stretchers, I announce to the others, "Looks like we get to dungeon -well, crypt- crawl. If the Venatori or another of Corypheus' allies ride through here when we're gone, I want to be sure we took whatever it was they were hoping to find." 

"Great. 'Cuz the last one went brilliant."

"Agreed. Perhaps any relics we encounter should remain untouched until Dorian or myself have thoroughly examined it."

"Oh? Was there a problem before?" Ida chimes in with another 'innocent' heft of her breasts. Stifled snickers and eyebrows raise at the obvious flaunting from the others, solidifying I wasn't crazy for believing she was doing it on purpose.

Rotating fully to face her, I impassively inform Ida with a fold my arms and cock of my hip, "Scout Ida, thank you for the intel but if you -" theatrically imitating her boob puffing, "fluff your smother brothers at my man again, I'm going to punch you in both tits. Dead Center. Right in the nipple." Solas hastily coughs and covers his mouth to hide his amusement while hoots of laughter sound at my deadpan delivery and Scout Ida was left to gape in stunned disbelief at being so bluntly called out.

_Game, set, match._

Giving a settled harrumph, I turn back to the squad. "Now, let's get ready for dwarven fun times. Team Hot Mess Ho!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> emma lath: (Elven) My love


	61. Chapter 61

_Uugghh...this was a bad idea..._

I can't help but think while staring vacantly down the corridor we would soon be exploring, waiting for the others to finish gathering their weapons behind me. The stuffy pressure from before was roaring back with a vengeance, locking my head in a vise grip while lethargy began to infuse itself in my limbs. Making me believe that haphazardly prancing around a dubious crypt right now might not be the smartest idea but then again, when did I ever cringe away from stupidity?

" _Vhenan_ ," Solas' gentle voice in my ear and hand on my hip snaps me from the blank stupor, "at least carry it with you." Holding an unadorned dagger hilt first to me in offering.

Mind a little lagging on the uptake, I reach for it slowly. "You went and found me a weapon?" Incredibly touched for some reason by the gift. Both of my own had been lost during the ambush against the Venatori and I just figured I would wing it with magic until we got back to Griffon Keep. But nope, the sweet man had decided to surprise and pilfer a blade for me. Talk about a keeper.

"You appeared bothered by nullification spells so it's best to remain armed. As you stubbornly prefer daggers, I was vigilant for any that happened to cross our path." Manner pragmatic. Like it was a perfectly reasonable thing to do and not at all charming.

Wrapping my fingers around the hilt, I experience a pulsating quiver from the weapon and I gaze up at Solas adoringly, "and it's enchanted?"

_Be still my heart!_

His eyes drift to look away, an expression of subtle shyness surfacing. "A simple Keen Edge enchantment."

"Thank you." Curling my arm to cradle the dagger against my chest to avoid cutting him, I tug his vest. Pulling Solas closer as I rise to place a soft kiss on his lips. Allowing myself only the briefest taste of their intoxicating magnetism before drawing away with a grin. "Now I have something to easily get you out of your clothes."

"I was unaware that was a problem." He dryly comments under his breath as I laughingly spin to retrieve my discarded scabbards from atop our gear.

Heady giddiness flutters wildly inside me as I quickly sheathe and strap the new blade to my leg, not at all fooled by Solas' logical, detached air. Any old dagger would have been effortless enough to locate after the cliff skirmish or assault on the Venatori's camp, but that wasn't what was currently resting along my thigh. This would have been carried by someone with authority or stashed somewhere, meaning Solas had done some digging for it as opposed to the 'meh, it was just lying there' picture his attitude was trying to portray.

 _Sneaky, cute elf._ Beaming blissfully and moving to stand with the fully assembled team, "So everyone ready? Clear on the mission? Grab everything."

"If memory serves me correctly, that was how things went spectacularly wrong last time, my friend."

"Oy!" Sera barks. "Who the frig' makes shite like a bloody rat stick?!"

Calmly cutting in, "nothing is disturbed until Dorian or I-"

"What? Blindly fondle everything?! Well if you insist..." A smile meant to be endearing splitting my face when Solas merely inhales deeply and releases it with an air of indulgent patience at the wisecrack.

 _"Haha!"_ Throwing his head back with a laugh and clapping Solas on the shoulder. "Loosen up, Solas. It's not like there's nug scratchers in every dwarven ruin or we're all going to start playing with shady items locked away in some dead guy's tomb."

Lifting a brow in skepticism, "I will remind you of that confident statement, Bull."

"Oh ye of little faith." Blackwall tosses over his shoulder as he begins to lead our little group down the passageway.

Corridor wide; it's enough to fit three Qunari shoulder-to-shoulder comfortably, and well lit with runes that cast the passage in a soft red glow. Details I did not find encouraging. _Guess yet another tomb doesn't match what was created for players._ Sighing dejectedly and skipping to march alongside Blackwall and Bull. _Where's the torches? There's supposed to be torches at least...._

The hall begins to slope ever so slightly, taking us lower. Damp, stale air long left undisturbed permeates, wafting the faint aroma of mildew into our nostrils. Implying the presence of moisture nearby, a far cry from the arid heat pervading the rooms above and corridor's entrance. A fine fog ghosts across the tile floor, rolling in delicate tendrils as a moist chill hits our skin and two grated iron braziers hang unlit at the end of our hallway. Its thin wisps thickening, becoming denser the nearer to the archway and its sconces we get.

"Oh, this is cozy. Just what I was hoping we'd stumble upon. Slime and oppressive gloom."

Snorts of humor on the heels of Dorian's apt description, the squad cautiously steps into the misty shadows, leaving Solas and himself to light the Veilfires. The ever-present runes had abruptly ended at the arch, bestowing their rosy luminescence a mere dozen feet into the vapory gloom. While substantial fog lazily floated up to our knees and light sources were absent, the high vaulted room wasn't pitch black. Instead a murky greyness encompassed the massive space, permitting shapes to be vaguely distinguished once eyes became accustomed to the shadows.

Glistening stalactites cling to the walls and climbed two colossal pillars on either side of the chamber. In its center stood an astonishingly intact towering statue of an armored dwarf proudly holding a sword at rest. The room was oddly bare of any distinctive markings or other decorations, or perhaps it only appeared that way due to the considerable fog eerily covering the floor. Radiant blue suddenly flares at our backs, chasing some of the grey further away, creating a halo but not nearly enough to illuminate the misty chamber. Scanning along the walls, I spot neither a branching passage or an alternate exit out of this room, but I did see additional Veilfire braziers sporadically lining the dripping walls. Fog curls and ripples as I move to the left, heading for one. More coils billow about as the team spreads out, obviously having a similar idea in mind.

Looking up at the sconce that was eye-level, a frown creases my brow. Confused, I bounce to get a better look. _The fuck? How do you light this thing?_ The holder was completely empty, devoid of wood or oil to utilize as fuel. I glance behind to the two already burning brightly, ready to bypass this one and move to another before I turn back with a baffled scratch of my head.

 _Eh._ Shrugging, I will a small blob of flame in my palm and drop it inside for the hell of it. With a splash of flame and sputter, it extinguishes. Bringing both hands up on either side, I concentrate on the middle of the holder, manifesting a spark of fire that spits and fizzles out just as quickly as it was summoned. Opting for another approach that was guaranteed to work, I retreat a step.

"Cool hand gesture." Dramatically waving my palm at the brazier as I had seen Solas do.

Absolutely nothing.

Uncontrolled cackling comes from Sera and I don't have to twist around to know my efforts to ignite the dumb thing hadn't gone unnoticed.

Before I can walk away with a 'Bah!', heady warmth and an enticing scent presses close. "Like this." A smile in his voice and sounding way too amused as Solas cups my hand in his, directing magic in a gradual accumulation for my benefit. "Veilfire can convey tangible sensations, complex ideas. Even feelings if one was to read it properly. It is more than a mere flame, requiring a piece of the Fade."

I barely perceive the extra 'pull' that fuses with his magic or the burst of Veilfire springing to life, too absorbed in the provocative feel of having Solas so near. His tantalizing smell of herbs, woods, and magic-- like a storm about to fall, tickling my senses. The electrifying lick of heat that was a scorching brand anywhere he happened to brush.

It was goddamn maddening. How did he expect me to get anything done? Let alone pay attention or utter a semi-coherent sentence? The man was a menace!

Long fingers skim the back of my hand in a lingering caress before falling away and Solas pivots to move on. A happy glint in his eyes at my wistful lean to remain close and successful stumbling over my own feet. Straightening myself with a bungling jolt and clear of my throat, I stride for the center of the room, ignoring the mock head shakes of deprecation from the others.

Partway to the dwarven statue a noise that made goose bumps instantly rise halts me in my tracks. Body and mind shouting 'AH, HELL NO!'.

_Clickclickclickclickclick......_

Arms stretched wide as I give a _nuh-uh_ shake and retreat backwards with measured steps,  "nope. Nope. Fuck no, nope. Corypheus can have this place. Nope."

_Clickclickclick..._

Weapons glide from sheathes and staves slip from shoulders, the group on alert and surveying the fog with the calculated eye of seasoned professionals. Their movements confident and unhurried as they slowly slide to close rank.

_Clickclickclickclickclick!_

A whisper soft stroke of something touching my shin has me whirling with a very loud, very shrill, girlish scream that I will never admit emitted from my mouth. Carelessly aiming a blast of energy at the giant ass spider creeping to pounce on me, I fling myself backwards. Flatting myself against stalactites and whatever else was growing on the large column. Frantically searching the mist and ceiling above me, not about to let one of the nightmarish hell spawn drop on me.

"Bullshit. Bullshit. This place is bullshit. I call mulligan's on this tomb!"

_CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK!_

Dozens of scurrying legs tap along the stone, eagerly racing to eat their dead and us. The tang of blood sending them into a greedy frenzy as the air erupts with hairy bulbous bodies hurling themselves to pin down their prey.

Laughter carries over the clanging thuds of solid masses colliding with shields, of fleshy thunks, of wet suction of weapons dislodging from torsos. Team Hot Mess taking great pleasure in witnessing their 'fearless' leader squealing like a big girl.

"Never thought a sound like that could come from you Inquisitor! Was that the fabled Wail of the Banshee I've heard so much about?" _Bash!_

"HA! I may owe you five Royals, Bull, but worth every penny! It _was_ like a keening Snoufleur!" Releasing streaks of lightening with a flourish to spear two spiders with an audible crackle and vicious snap.  

"Best. Crypt. Ever!" Giving a merry kick to one that had strayed too close and loosening an arrow on another.

"Boss, this one has young on its back!" The cheeky bastard gleefully announces with a flick of his axe to send the corpse sailing for me.

Diabolical jerk may have lied about baby abominations being latched to it but the manly war cry -- _cough_ , maidenly shriek-- bubbles forth unbidden anyway at the same moment two magical energies crash into the flying carcass. The second utterly disintegrating it to explode in gooey chunks that coincidentally cascade over Dorian. His horrified exclamation and curses easily ringing over the clash of a skirmish coming to its conclusion. 

"Now that is just a low blow!" Peeling sticky sinew from his shoulder with a revolted pinch of his fingers.

Though I kept to the pillar even with our dastardly foes vanquished, I chuckle triumphantly at Dorian's slimed figure, wondering if it had been intentional. My gaze shifts to Solas and I melt impossibly more at the mischievous gleam in stunning grey and hint of a smirk playing at the corner of beautiful lips.

_Menace!_

" _Nhaha.._ Never seen you wear snot green before, Dorian. Matches your dress." Wiggling a particularly juicy piece dangling off the tip of her bow.

"Robes. They are robes. And you never will again, the color is abhorrent. Like stirring indigestion."

Highly entertained, I slip my attention away from the banter and to the now marginally illuminated chamber. Being farther in and positioned against the support, I spy what was previously blocked by the huge statue. An angular, sharper edged archway lies directly behind it. The sole doorway and passage forward in the entire room. Much of the fog had settled and glancing down, I know there's twitching, hairy bodies scattered about that I will have to walk over to get to the hallway.

"Undead, demons. Giants...Interesting that spiders seem to hold the key where all else failed to make you wary." Warm, teasing, as he slings his staff over his shoulder and waits beside me.

"You got a kick out of the screech didn't you?"

"It was quite resilient." Amusement, contentment, light. They lace every word, a dooming siren's song to my soul. 

Huffing with false affront and turning toward the arch so he wouldn't see my mouth pressed firmly to keep from laughing, I move for the door. Squeamishly hopping fuzzy limbs I swear were only quivering to mess with me.

Poking my head in, it wasn't a corridor like I expected. It was a direct connection to another chamber. Similar to the first with its shadowy gloom and dense fog concealing the floor, yet this one was of medium size with four central pillars. Veilfire braziers hung from the posterior side of each column if the two within sight were any indication, the test to gain entry into the true tomb I bet.

Since I wasn't supposed to know what this place was or how to navigate it, I stride for the middle of the room. Almost reaching it when I trip on a rock, or maybe step. Arms flailing wildly to catch myself, I land with a graceless, bone-jarring _smack_! in plain view of everyone. Disrupting the fog to billow in undulating clouds. Fairly accustomed to the spectacle of terrible wipe-outs, snorts and chuckles from the others are the single response to the clumsy display. Vibrant, intense heat washes across my face as I leap to my feet with a self-conscious smile.  

"Alright, _vhenan_?" Expression torn between being concerned and trying very hard not to find it funny.

Knees and wrists stinging something fierce, "peachy!" I happily chirp.

Disregarding the pain, I stand to face two of the four tablets. Making a show of studying the strange writings though I couldn't read them to save the life of me. Before Dorian can accidently ignite a wrong torch, I point and call attention to our solution forward.

"Guys! What's this?"

"Looks like what we found at the burial grounds."

Strolling to the center in interest, Dorian skims the nearest etchings. Running his fingers over his mustache in consideration, "After many years Fairel, greatest of Paragons, could not bear life's burden." Swiveling to inspect another, "He bade each son swear he would take care of his brother."

Sauntering to stand behind, his hand coming to rest on my waist, "And the brothers swore, and mourned when their father returned to the Stone. And with the burden growing, he called his sons to his bedside." Solas pivots to read each tablet in turn, his eyes alit with curiosity while absently casting a minor healing spell.

"Sounds like a puzzle." Intrigue in his tone as he taps the flat of his axe on his shoulder. 

Scoffing with a cross of her arms, "piss poor one. You blow farts with more mystery."

"Let's see what happens if we light the Veilfires in order." Rubbing the hem of Solas' tunic, glad I hadn't needed to plant any suggestions.

Dorian and Solas separate to do just that, each taking a side of the room. Palms hovering, pausing for the other to ignite their brazier before kindling their own. The sequence was simple enough, its completion heralding resounding clinks and the grinding groans of gears gone long idle. The heavy scrape of stone-on-stone rumbles from the far wall and sure enough, a new passage opens before our eyes.

"Foolish that the Venatori are the first ones out here. Why isn't Orlais or Ferelden sending scholars to learn how to make a building that lasts a thousand years? This is real engineering. None of that 'we'll get a Mage to lift that block' crap Tevinter does." Gait assured as he advances to take lead.

"Sometimes we like to shake things up and have a servant do it." Brow quirked in brazen challenge, earning a grunt from Bull.

"Ooh, snap! Imperium: one, Qun: zero." Unable to help trolling the bear while filing in behind them. 

Thankful for the runes guiding our way once again as the damp chill increases with every step. Their muted glow radiated faintly through the mist so I could at least see what I would be falling over. Hopes that this might actually turn out to be like the tombs I remembered from the game are dashed when the corridor ends and a vast, cavernous, fog covered chamber yawns ahead. Grey and gloom shrouding the immense space. The blaze of runes or torches nonexistent but for the rosy shine of another hallway in the distance. The archway well over a hundred yards away, across God knows what courtesy of the persistent mist. Although, with solely my human vision to rely on, there didn't seem to be anything in here either. Squinting, I note indistinct bars of black towering from floor to ceiling. Support columns I assumed; it was difficult to tell from so far. And a quick glance to my left and right revealed the walls couldn't be seen, meaning this might be one beast of a chamber.

The butt of staves are struck against tile, their twin solid raps echoing simultaneously as a small area surrounding us flares with sudden golden light. Power stones luminous, Dorian and Solas position themselves as front and rear guard, expanding our illuminated perimeter.

"Guess that's our way forth?"

"I can't see anything in this murk. Anyone notice something?"   

"From here, walls are clear. No doorways other than that." Jutting her chin to the red glow beyond.

Cracking his neck and moving to march slightly before Dorian, "traipsing across the suspicious room it is."

The floor beneath our boots starts to slant so gradually that at first I didn't perceive the change until fog gently kisses my waist. A weighty splash of heavy footfalls soon chases the realization as mine swiftly tread water right after. Our answer to the source of the chill and out of place mist. Groans and grumbles shortly flow as the...pool?, we found ourselves abruptly trudging through incrementally deepened along with the dense fog. Its wispy cover well above my head now as I doggedly follow the hazy gleam of Dorian's staff. The beckoning red of the hallway we'd seen lost in the substantial gloom engulfing us.

Water laps at my knee-high boots, occasionally sloshing over the top to soak my trousers due to the waves our passage create. Its biting cold plainly felt through the soft leather and causing shivers to race up my spine. A harsh yelp, a growl and huge splash sound ahead just as a big ripple crashes into my thighs. Without warning the stone under my foot drops in an unexpected dip and freezing, penetrating cold punches me as it now licks around my ribs.               

"H-HO-OH! Holy shit balls!" Stomach tensing and contracting at the prompt glacial immersion.

Hisses, vehement curses, growls; they drift from behind me as the rest of the squad gets treated to the same wintry water surprise. Violent shudders wracking my body, I wade a little faster to closely flank Bull and Dorian.

"Bull...you Muscle-y Muscle man...with your strong, tall legs..." I sweetly cajole.

"Want me to carry you, Boss?" His devil-may-care grin widening.

"If you're offering lifts, I accept. This cold is havoc on my wonderful self."

My chuckle coming out a bit on the chattering side, "only if it gets too deep...I can't swim." I sheepishly admit. "I can paddle for all of five seconds then it's just _glugglugglug_."

"Thought as much. I wondered why you never strayed too far from shore when bathing."

Before I can rattle off a corny joke at Bull's confession of having peeped, a low timbre as frigid as the water beats me to it. "Oh? And how did you come upon such a conclusion, Bull?"

"Yes, Bull, pray tell." More playful instigation than jealousy.

The grin morphing into a full cocky smile that he twists to aim at Solas, "I looked."

Lips pinch and grey eyes narrow at the purposeful parrot of the response Solas so enjoyed giving when asked certain troublesome questions. I snap face-forward at his expression of harried displeasure, valiantly struggling to keep the mirth that wanted to spill forth tightly contained. Actually grateful for the arctic pool now laving at breast level. I trembled so bad from its bitter presence that the shakes from my smothered laughter were conveniently masked.

Suddenly as one, Dorian and Solas both stiffen and halt dead. The tautness of their features signifying shit was about to go nuclear.   

_Should've known getting comfortable and happy during a job would cause things to go tits up._


	62. Chapter 62

Water lapping at their chest, Dorian and Solas stiffen. Both halting dead with features strung taut in foreboding. "Feel that?"

"Appears we are not alone."

Even as the words leave their mouth the fog seems to come alive. Forming ghostly tendrils that spear to impale Blackwall from behind only to rebound off the shield still strapped to his back. The force of their failed assault slams him face first into the frigid pool, sending a wave of glacial cold splashing into the side of my head at the same instant Sera is snagged by ethereal coils and cruelly pitched. "Sera!" Her flailing body disappearing into the murky grey and landing some distance away with another large splash. 

Dazzling blue sparkles a heartbeat later, ricocheting the grasping tendrils back like whips before any have an opportunity to strike again. Blackwall surfaces with sputtering coughs as the fog abruptly rushes past. Perhaps recognizing it wasn't going to make it through our mage's barrier, its vapory shroud recedes as if gathered by a vacuum on the right half of the cavernous chamber. Swiftly converging together to morph into a colossal...

"The. Fuck."

" _Oh, you can't be serious_."

"It's a..."

"Stupid Jellyfish!" Sera furiously finishes from yards away.

Visibility much improved with the mist's removal, there was no missing the gigantic jellyfish bobbing along the pool's surface. Its body and tentacles composed of; and retaining its appearance, of fog. Wispy vapors swirl within whatever confines was allowing it to maintain its shape, looking as though a single touch would sift right through delicate clouds. However we knew it was merely an illusion of intangibility. When those myriad of limbs attacked, they would be as solid as a hammer.

Tentacles writhe and snake, generating a constant tide to annoyingly slosh in my face as the creature's hood begins to pulsate. A gaping maw splits its umbrella, plump edges contorting into lips as another, thinner set forms some sort of gum line. Its mouth repeatedly shuts and widens like a hungry fish but more than anything it was reminiscent of a-                      

_Now that's just wrong._ My own lips sucking in with a shake of my head at the hilariously obscene mouth. So very tempted to blurt a tasteless joke but deciding now was probably not the time.

Wraithlike appendages were rising to mercilessly pummel our gleaming protection in an unyielding buffet. Determined to shatter the deceptively frail defense with brute strength as limbs pound one after the other. Colors gleam and shine over the water as potent magic jostles and pulls to its master. Radiating a blazing light that is expertly hurled to burn and destroy clobbering limbs.

An intelligent and calmly calculated tactic on their part; even in the midst of this vicious bombardment. Fire would evaporate the monster's body if it was indeed still mist as it appeared, and it wasn't as though lightning would do any good. Except electrocute the living shit out of everyone and everything in the pool. Spirit and Necromancy were viable alternatives, but they likely wouldn't pack the same punch on this particular brand of beast.

Fire conjuring poop-tacular at best, I sling my own pitiful globs as well anyway. As small as the contribution would be, it was better than nothing.

Having dodged and swam her way back, Sera flings herself to join us within the shimmering bubble of protection. Standing poised and at the ready right alongside the warriors should it splinter and fail. There was little else they could do but wait and watch, being in such deep water as we were. Motions were hampered and sluggish, not to mention the barrier was the only thing ensuring tentacles didn't seize us from beneath the waves and drag us under.

Spells whish and zip, bursting into showering embers upon impact. Gossamer arms quake with each successful hit but none show signs of weakening. Minutes tick by; or perhaps it was only seconds, panted breaths mixing with the clash of limbs slapping against magic before fires cease and energies of another kind take their place. Piercing and detonating in a savage barrage in an effort to injure the battering appendages even the tiniest bit.

Focus divided between fueling the barrier and casting, my energy lances were far stronger than the magic being propelled from Solas and Dorian but even they were to no avail. Unfettered and unrestrained as I allowed the magic to be, they merely caused heavier tremors to ripple along the spindly limbs.

"This isn't working! It's-"

Tremors become wild vibrations; producing turbulent waves as ghostly tentacles suddenly flare with light. Rearing back they slam down all at once, releasing energy in a torrent of power. There's a split-second of experiencing our magic interwoven --which couldn't be right, before the simultaneous feeling of being ruthlessly wrenched forward and thunderous boom of an explosion roars.

I'm catapulted ass-over-end, water filling my nose and mouth in a rush. Frantically I kick and flounder, desperately struggling to gain control and break free. Helpless to slow the tumultuous spin as I'm swept away by the harsh current the blast created. Mindless panic sets in as lungs inhale more water, making me fight all the harder. Toes skid along tile for the briefest of moments before I'm rolled again. The next rotation I was ready, pushing with everything I have when boot scrapes stone.

I break the surface with an agonized gasp. Hearing the alarmed shouts of the others, catching the faintest glimpse of a chaotic pool and choppy waters along with an unharmed, completely whole jellyfish. Tentacles flopping in the air like ribbons blowing in the wind then descending en mass before I'm swept under once more. It felt like my blood was practically crystallizing, as if I had ice being injected directly into my veins. The water was so cold, so very glacial cold. Such stabbing, biting cold. Such full-body, needlelike pain. I kick and paddle as hard as I can, driving for the surface. Succeeding in coming up for a too short breath, swallowing more water than air before sinking yet again.

Soles touch bottom and I unhesitatingly shove up. Greedily inhaling the smallest breath when I emerge while desperately searching for anything to latch onto before I'm towed under. Up. Down. Up. Down. Flounder. Choke.

Blindly I strive for something -anything- to grab or stand on. Arms extended, groping, while I propelled myself in a random direction, praying for shallower water. The tip of my finger barely brushes something cold, hard. Solid.

I could have sobbed in relief at the contact if I hadn't been drowning.

With a last kick born of fear and self-preservation, palms touch stone and I claw my way upwards. Fingers fumbling to find purchase as I fought to stay above water. My nose and throat burning, I choke and sputter, coughing up water as I miserably cling to a towering pillar. Sucking in great lungfuls of air in-between body wracking coughs while it felt like an elephant had happily seated itself upon my chest.

I wipe a hasty hand over my eyes, quick to return my white-knuckle grip to the stone. No longer in immediate danger of floating ass up, the shit-tastic situation begins to register in my disoriented mind.

The explosion had scattered the team, tossing everyone in different directions to fend for themselves. Weapons hacked and slashed, swinging in constant motion to cleave and avert eager tentacles. The single points of magic came from still luminous power stones. Their radiant orbs seeming to dance in the dreary gloom as staves were held above heads, sweeping and twirling to divert ceaseless attacks. Sera and Solas must have been thrown nearby or were perhaps attempting to reach me for both were much closer than the others and kept their torsos partially twisted towards my column. Sweet, and very appreciated of them, but a horrible plan.

I had been launched, and now clung to a pillar that stood damn close to the jellyfish from hell.  

Wedging and jamming the fingers of my left hand as far into the cracked mortar as I could; I unsheathe my dagger just in time to gouge a chunk of tentacle that was making a swipe for me. What seems to be wispy vapor oozes from the cut as the limb recoils but I don't get a chance to analyze that little nugget before another swoops in for a hit.

"Is your-" A growled hiss escaping his lips as he whacks an appendage away and smoothly whirls his staff to rap a second, "-hold secure, Akira?!"

"So - _cough_ \- far!" Voice trembling and incredibly hoarse though I tried to infuse it with a pluckiness I didn't feel.

"Keep it." A stern command broking no argument. _As if I planned otherwise!_  

Through the writhing web of tentacles, Blackwall and Dorian repel seeking arms, the clang of shield and hallow _thunk_ of wood a distinct clamor over the slap of bodies against water. Tentacles thrust for Blackwall's blindside. As if expecting such an attack, his shield is rammed to meet it, sword chopping to fend off a third. With a hard snap of his wrists, Dorian efficiently baps two attempting to sandwich him.

Neither man anticipated the creature's ploy to devise an opening. Guard and stances wide, they were defenseless against the arms shooting out to snatch them up and over the pool. Blackwall briefly gets a taste of being dunked as he's hauled by his knee while an ethereal arm clutches Dorian around his ribs. Both wrestle to break free as they're hauled to the massive hood, its maw fluttering madly in hungry impatience.

Bending at the waist in a crunch, Blackwall hacks at the limb holding him prisoner, releasing more of that vapory substance. He falls with a huge splash as arrows and powerful swing of Bull's axe carve clean through the tentacle grasping Dorian. Dorian along with the piece roped around him drop, thick plumes of fog wafting over the water from bleeding limbs as they cringe away. Irked and sputtering, Dorian and Blackwall spring to the surface moments later, looking the epitome of doused, pouty humans.

"What do we do? Magic has no effect and these bloody limbs are endless!" Loosing arrows at a speed I had never witnessed and was beyond human even with the awkward angle she was forced to use.                                                                  

"I've got an idea." Irreverent smile splitting his face as he studies the flailing, wounded tentacles.

"If you have something I'd love to hear it, we're being trounced." Grunting as he lifts his shield to deflect a brutal blow, determination on his features. 

"It's going to eat me." Pure, unadulterated excitement in every word.

"What?! That's what we're trying to avoid, you daft tit!" Release. _Thwack_.

"No, really. It's perfect! Krem cut his way out of a noble's pet Wyvern before. Swallowed him whole. Been itching to try it ever since."

Twisting to spare his lover a look, "of all the absurd, deficient, chest-thumping,-" Worried exasperation an easily discernible emotion to read, Solas wore that expression often enough. "That is suicide, Bull! It's too risky!"

Instead of offering a rebuttal, Iron Bull bobs closer to the gigantic body, gleefully so. Arms spread wide, "YEAH! COME GET ME! COME GET SOME OF THIS! YOU WANT IT!" A broad tentacle lashes out, yanking him up.

_Naw...he's not actually gonna-_

"HAHA, YEAH! YOU WANT IT!"

Slack jawed, I watch as Iron Bull is promptly gobbled whole.

_Holy. Fuck._

I did some debatably unintelligent shit, but this was on a whole new level. When it came to ridiculously dangerous shenanigans, I would always ever be a novice compared to Bull. Crazy bastard just cinched it by joyfully vaulting to get eaten.

Either the water was concealing more of the jellyfish's body or the fog floating inside it was denser than I thought because Bull had disappeared entirely from sight once he'd been plopped into that waiting mouth. Incredulous expressions range all around, disbelieving he had really done it. Wiggling limbs pause in their relentless mauling and perhaps we weren't the only ones surprised. However it's soon evident that wasn't the reason behind the temporary cease-fire.

Severe tremors overcome the colossal monster, running from arced hood to the tips of countless appendages. Its tentacles violently thrash, spawning rough waters as arms whip and slap in a wild frenzy. The team bounds and paddles backwards, hastily moving to get out of reach of the deadly chaos.  

Gasping and choking, I swiftly sheath my dagger and pinch my nose with a turn of my face, squeezing my eyes shut as I huddle against the pillar. Desperately clinging as high waves crash against my back and the frightening whoosh of limbs cutting through the air sounds all around.

Tingling warmth suddenly encases me just before I'm knocked from behind with a hard shove, nearly causing me to lose my hold and my precious breath. I cower, trying to make myself a smaller target as the stone beneath my palm quakes and I'm repeatedly jostled by berserked strikes against the barrier above me. My grip begins to slip on slick mortar and I start to dip lower.

A harsh curse echoes in my ear then a comparably hot body slams into my back. Unapologetically pressing me to the column as welcome heat drapes itself over me, pinning me in place. Waves continue to roll, tentacles continue to pound in mindless pain and fury, seemingly lasting for an eternity before the deafening beat gradually dies.

Slowly Solas lifts his weight from my back, not enough to draw away but enough that he wasn't squishing me anymore and turns his head to glance behind. Water now a less turbulent rock, I tentatively raise my chin. From the protective cage of his arms I see Señor Jellyfish lifelessly floating, bobbing to the rhythm of the waves, its tentacles fanned out. Fog lazily slinks from the immense body, as though it was steadily melting and the vapory mist was being released.

From the center of the domed hood, fog parts like a curtain and Bull's axe makes an appearance. Flapping the heavy weapon briskly to clear the hazy veil and grinning triumphantly, "I'm sorry, all these rippling muscles make it hard to hear sometimes. You were saying something about risk?"

The remaining tension leaves Solas' body at the cocky sight of Bull and his attention returns to me. To trail those mesmerizing eyes over me in concern. No doubt he noticed the drowned rat look with my hair plastered to my face and the blue likely tingeing my lips if the incredible numbness was any indication. Pale as I was, I knew my nose would be red as a tomato right now but instead of a normal reaction of 'girl, let's just cover you real fast...', his expression gentles and roves across my face like I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Like I always found myself looking at him.  

Pink flushed his cheeks and ears but did nothing to detract from his bewitching allure, simply added to it. Water droplets lovingly slip down those handsome features, highlighting perfect angles...perfect lips. I twist around, my hand reaching to cup his jaw, about to trace the sinful fullness before a trickle of crimson drips from his left ear.

"Solas! Y-your injured."  Sliding my palm to cradle just below his ear, everything else forgotten.

Catching my hand to bring to his lips. "Nothing serious." Easing away, Solas lowers himself to find the pool's bottom. Testing its depth and lightly bouncing on his toes to stay above water, he opens his arms, "Come, _vhenan_."

Unhesitatingly I wrap myself around him, "B-but-"

"It isn't cause for concern." Hooking an arm across my waist while keeping the other free, Solas propels us towards squad mates who were paddling to join each other.

Not a hundred percent trusting that response and hating that he'd been hurt, I hug him tightly. Burying my face in his neck, not knowing what else to do. Brutal shudders were seizing my body and my skin ached from the bitter chill but I didn't care. I was just happy Solas was alright and I would give him my faith that he wasn't purposely misleading me. Heat flares from the hand at my waist, radiating outwards, sending slightly painful ripples as freezing tissue begins to thaw. I clutch him all the harder, trying to return some of that warmth. Solas was just as frozen, but was seeing to my needs first. It was a endearing habit of his; one I wished he didn't have. I could find a way to endure anything except his pain, but he blatantly refused to treat himself if I was harmed.    

_Frustratingly stubborn, sweet man._

Even as his gait levels and Solas trudges through shallower water, I maintain my monkey-like grasp and he makes no move to untangle me. Seemingly content to carry his spoiled _vhenan_. I do lift my head when I hear the soft sloshing of the team though. An impudent smirk crossing my face.

"Hey, D-dorian. Bull got sw-swallowed by a g-giant vagina. Just vanished r-right into that w-whispering eye."

"Aww! Beat me to it!"

Shoulders sagging, he expels a resigned sigh at the two of us. "How did I know your minds would jump to that?"

"Wait! Fish sandwich is better. Get it? Cuz Jelly _fish_!"

"It was stickier than I expected." 

Eyeing Bull with an unamused expression, "you're not helping." Pivoting, Dorian raises a brow in curiosity, "Sera, it threw you like a ragdoll. How did you retain your arrows?"

"Your arse held 'em."

Face brightening with flippant understanding, "oh, well, perhaps my ass should carry all my valuables. It appears to have quite the grip."

~

Soaked, shivering, utterly miserable; I stand beside the others within a square chamber. I had finally taken pity on Solas and had him drop me so I could submerge myself one more time to scrub sand from my scalp. Shit was frigid but at least I was cleaner. We had slogged our way out of the Pool of Despair and now here we stood. Completely stumped on what we were supposed to do.

We had followed the muted light of runes to the short corridor behind us and it had led us here to this barren room barely wider than the passageway. Deep grooves decorate stone walls, runes hazily glowing within their sharp, geometrical designs carved along the granite. No braziers to ignite, no archway to pass under, nothing. Simply a dead end.

Or maybe not, I could swear those depressions camouflaged a door's crease. The gamer in me said this had to be so. Why else only light one way forward, like a goddamn lighthouse beacon?

"I don't see another of those Veilfires or a lever."

"Dead end?"

"Or could be triggered by a pressure plate." Bull muses with a scratch of his chin.

"If it is, it may be a trap. Be wary."

"Always so grim." Deliberately tapping his staff on tile as he said it.

"Cautious." Solas corrects before taking me by the shoulders and maneuvering me to stand in the doorway instead.

Jokingly as the words were, everyone moved carefully as they stepped on every tile and roamed their fingers across walls. Searching for any sign of a hidden button or switch. In the beginning I actively observed them but as time went on, I slipped farther and farther into a vacant daze. Mind wondering and lids blinking sluggishly as I battled extreme lethargy. Shocking cold and the struggle not to die by jellyfish lewdness had shelved it before, but now that numbness had set in and adrenaline had come and gone, any energy reserves I had were drained.

It didn't even register when a disembodied voice suddenly booms and stops the hunt. "I don't have eyes, but once I did see. Once I had thoughts, but now I'm white and empty."

_...skull..._

"The blazes-"

"Is this another puzzle like before? It's a skull. But why..." Dorian's words taper off at the echo of groans and the scrape of stone. Quieting everyone as the entirety of the wall directly ahead sinks into the floor at a leaden creep. Extending the room outwards until it was more of a hallway now then chamber with another dead end looming.

Glances laced with suspicion briefly pass between the team before they inch forward. Solas walks to skim his fingers through mine, wearing a look of uncertainty as to whether he wanted to bring me even as his touch stirred me enough to stare at him owlishly. Groggily I move to follow the others, knowing somewhere in the back of my mind it was what I was supposed to do. Already the voice was booming another question when I lumber up.

"What always runs but never walks. Often murmurs but never talks. Has a bed but never sleeps. Has a mouth but never eats?"   

Exhausted blink... _river...tired..._

"A river"  "It is a river."  "Answer's river." Comes the confident replies.

_tired...so tired...I just wan-..wait, what?_

Some of the muddled murk lifts as the wall grinds away and I focus on the path in front of us. "Wait, did we get asked a riddle? And that-" Pointing down at the section of wall now embedded in the floor, "-opened up?" My eyes lighting with a hopeful gleam.

"Yes..."

"Well, yeah. Have you-"

A jubilant whoop erupts and I vigorously shadow-box the air before pumping my fist in sweet victory, lethargy vanquished at the news. There were three things guaranteed to rouse me even from the land of the dead. Number one: Naked Solas. Second: Prospect of dragons. And third? Motherfucking Sphinxes! "YEESSS! _SPHINX!_ FUCK YEAH! HAHAHA!" Giddily I leap forward to stand before the next wall, hopping eagerly in place while I waited for another riddle. " _Sphinxsphinxsphinxsphinxsphinx."_

"Uhh.."

" _Finx_?"

"What the frig' is _sffanks_ or whatever? If Inky's excited, it's magic shite isn't it? It's magic." Shoulders drooping dismally.

Eyes narrowed as they track my progress, "a good question." he states. Strides unhurried, Solas steps to my left and extends a hand to halt the zealous mantra. "Calm for a moment, Akira. What is... _sphinx_?"

Pausing in my fervent fixation to share the supreme bossness, " _Uber_ awesomeness! It's a beast that has the head of a human, haunches of a _lion_ \--ahem, lion, or large cat, and wings of a bird. They're crazy powerful, always guarding something, and the only way to defeat it is to answer its riddles correctly. Riddles that are the ultimate of riddles!" Unconsciously resuming the delighted bouncing while I spoke.

"Don't know about the chatting, but the rest sounds grand. Let's fight it!"

"Damn, now this I want to see, Boss. Is it some sort of rare elf thing? Only comes out after dancing naked or whispering to trees? Never heard of one before."

Ignoring Sera and Bull's enthusiasm, steely greys study me intently. "And you believe there is such a creature here?"

If I hadn't been sick, I would have been able to curb my zeal and think rationally. I would have realized this for what it was. A major bloody slip. Sphinxes didn't exist in Thedas, they'd just clearly declared it and here I was, virtually prancing with a proverbial sign screaming 'Wrong! Akira shouldn't be!'. I would have identified the calculation, the perceptive eyes that saw too much and gave too little. I would have done what comes unnatural to me. I would have shut my blubbering mouth.

Instead, "nooo! There has to be!" Aghast horror suffusing my tone at the insinuation there was no Sphinx waiting for us. "We're in a place that wants something guarded. Check. We're in the desert --though that doesn't necessarily mean they're only found there. Check. And most important of all; riddles! If there's a test of riddles then they're responsible. Riddles always go hand-in-hand with _Sphinxes_. Anything else would be blasphemy! Blasphemy!"

Astute. Much too astute. A penetrating gaze scorching in its scrutiny but nothing was to come of it as the presence returns with our next round. "You bury me when I'm alive, you dig me up when I die. What am I?"

Throwing my palms out before anyone can mutter a response, "Ho-ho! Too easy! I've got this. Just stand there and keep looking pretty." Hand on hip, I arrogantly point at the portion of wall that was about to lower to my greatness, "a plant!" Squealing in joy and clapping my hands, I race on, not even giving the partition time to fully descend. " _sphinxsphinxsphinxsphinxsphinx._ "

The others trail behind at a more sedate pace, quick to catch on that their aid was unnecessary and would be swiftly rejected after the boomed brain-teaser of, "the more there is, the less you see." is met with, "It's Darkness! Now _Sphinx_ me, bitch!"

On this process continues. A puzzle for a divider. The wait for the next a maddening torment. The promise of encountering the object of one of my childhood obsessions so close I could taste it.  

'What does move everything around but doesn't move?'

 _A mirror_.

'The builder doesn't need it, the buyer doesn't want it, and the user doesn't know they're using it. What is it?'

 _A coffin_.

'What has rivers with no water, forests but no trees, and cities with no buildings?'

_A map._

'The Poor have me, the Rich want me, and if you eat me you'll die. What am I?'

 _Nothing_.

'You can always find me in the past. I can be created in the present, but the future can never taint me. What am I?'

_History!_

'This one runs forever but never moves at all. He has not lungs nor throat, but still a mighty roaring call. What is it?'

_A waterfall!!_

'You hear it speak for it has a long tongue but it cannot breathe for it has not a lung. What is it?'

_A. Bell!_

Torture. This was pure torture. How many would I have to answer before it decided to show itself? The once small square chamber had long since been extended into a seemingly endless corridor and yet this wall I plastered myself against and began to dramatically slide face-first down was the same as all the others. "wh-h-hy-y...why do you deny me... _ughhh...sphinx..._ "

Either uncaring or paying no heed to the theatrical whine, the emotionless query echoes, "yellow inside of black. Green, red, black, and white inside again. What am I?"

" _uh-hu-hughhh..._ a pearl..." Melodramatically wilting along with the partition to the sound of amused snorts and chuckles.

"I'm embarrassed just watching." A teasing _tsk_ in his manner. "How do you take her anywhere, Solas?"

A long-suffering sigh issues behind me. "I try not to think about it."

Golden light joins the rosy glow I had become accustomed to, instantly snapping me to attention and restoring my faith and giddiness. Eagerly I dash into the chamber, anticipation and elation running through my veins, never more ready for anything in my life. However the beaming euphoria on my face as I step within the room dies and I halt.      

_What?! Aw fuck you Thedas!_

Raising an accusing finger at the figure seated before me, "I CALL BULLSHIT!"

Within this vaulted hall rested a massive plush throne of vibrant velvet and regally reclining within its elegant softness was not my Sphinx, but instead a near twin of Nug Jabba. Where Lardicus had the tiniest of crowns, this doppelganger wore a simple garnet circlet crammed atop its head. And here he sat, paws relaxed over the arms of his throne, stoically considering us as the others file in right behind me.

"Maker's ass-"   "Wha-"    " _NAHAHA!_ " Blackwall and Dorian's astonished gasps easily drowned out by Sera's howl of laughter as she double's over.

Angrily I fold my arms and promptly sit down cross-legged where I stood, making sure to turn myself away from the giant steaming pile of disappointment. "bullshit...this is bullshit..." Muttering irritably. "stupid dwarves using stupid nugs instead of a _Sphinx_. pooping all over people's dreams. riddles with no _Sphinx_...sacrilege."

"You have come far travelers." Voice commanding, imposing. The noble bearing never wavering. "You have done well to reach this inner sanctum. The first in centuries. In a show of respect for your accomplishment, I offer a choice. What do I call the one who dares to challenge me?"

"Butt-hurt." I grumble, incredibly disappointed.

Nodding sagely, "Very well, Butt-Hurt, I give you one chance to go back now or stay and face my trial. Succeed, and you shall be one step closer to Favor. Fail, and this shall become your tomb."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side Notes:
> 
> Who's feeling the King's Quest and Quest for Glory love?!


	63. Chapter 63

A sage nod. "Very well, Butt-Hurt," smothered mirth greeting that serious delivery. "I give you one chance to go back now or stay and face my trial. Succeed, and you shall be one step closer to Favor. Fail, and this shall become your tomb." 

"And what precisely _is_ your trial?" Dorian interjects.

"Surely our accomplishment has benefitted the honor of knowing its rules." Solas smoothly adds.

Fathomless beady eyes silently consider us. His pudgy head tilting slightly as Twin Jabba mulls over the request before the imposing voice that was so at odds with his lazy pet appearance booms. "A test of wisdom. Simply outwit me in a contest of riddles and the way to Favor will open." Eyes of profound darkness narrow, hardening with a cold and callous light. "But be warned, should you fail, all those gathered will fall along with you for each shall share the other's fate. Now choose."

Bodies crowd in a conspiratorial circle above my seated form, utterly calm and not even batting an eye at the issued threat of failure.

"There's that word again. Think it's another of those funny shards?"

"If it is, no way to get it then by beating the royal meat bag."

"His words imply only one of us gets the delightful duty of holding everyone's fate while challenging him. Meaning whoever it is needs savvy cunning and dashing poise. Oh look, I just described myself. Guess there's no help for it then, I volunteer."

Still pouting from the epic disappointment and never lifting my chin, "I accept your test of wrong!"

"Now hold-"   " _Uhh.._ "   "Wait a-"   "Inquis-"   "Perha-"

"As you wish." Effectively cutting off their protests. The grinding scrape of stone echoes as we're sealed within the throne room, trapping us until a victor emerged. "There will be no quarter here, small traveler. Let us begin. 'There are two sisters: one gives birth to the other and she, in turn, gives birth to the first. Who are they?' "

I can practically feel the excited thrum of energy from the others and I raise a hand to halt any attempts to answer for me. "I've got this Sugar Plums. No worries." Woodenly I unfurl and push to stand, experiencing incredible heaviness in my legs and body. _Okay so maybe it wasn't such a great idea to plop down in the middle of the floor_. "I've never been defeated in a game of riddles and I certainly won't lose to this mockery of a _Sphinx_." Finally meeting the soulless nug stare, I slam a fist into my waiting palm. "The sisters are Day and Night. Now prepare yourself, Dream Crusher, for I'm about to bring the mental butt whooping on thy jelly ass!" Grin spreading as my competitor instincts ignite. "My first is foremost legally. My second circles outwardly. My third leads all to victory. My fourth twice ends a nominee. What am I?"

"You are Love." No hesitation. Not so much as a crack in his aristocratic demeanor. "Everyone has it. Those who have it least don't know they do. Those who have it most wish they had less of it, but not too little or none at all. What is it?"

Needing only a moment to reflect on if the response fit, "age." I boldly state. It was my turn once again and I pause, contemplating my options. My strength lay in unraveling riddles not creating them. My repertoire of remembered riddles was pitiful and I suspected the ones being posed to me would become more difficult the longer we tangoed. I needed to play this smart, and I needed to use being from another world to my advantage. Underhanded and dirty, but hey, not technically cheating. "Three or four, I can stab through or rule the seas. You know my cousins. What am I?" Confidence soaring.

A weighty silence fills the chamber as plump toes begin to drum against the arms of the throne. The first outward sign of uncertainty. The first slip in Imposter Sphinx's stately composure. Long, fanning whiskers twitch and finally he speaks. "A...fork?" More question than answer.

 _Nutsack._ I _tsk_ in annoyance, confidence taking a tit punch. Though Poseidon's trident was what I was aiming for, theoretically fork was an acceptable answer. Guess there was enough of a hint in the riddle that he could take a stab in the dark - _ha! stab-_ and pull the correct choice out of his butt.  

Mole-ish, rabbit features relax but an edge of tension remained. It seemed he was no longer so secure in his success. "Slayer of regrets, old and new. Sought by many, found by few."

I open my mouth to reply but I falter, unsure of my judgment. It came so swiftly, so easily...Surely it wasn't so simple. Surely it was deceptively simplistic and instead held a tricky pitfall. But nothing else came to mind so I crossed my fingers I wasn't about to screw all of us. "Redemption." On bated breath I wait for crystal to spring from the floor, for lightning to strike, anything to indicate I'd just royally fucked us. When a full minute passes without doom descending, I expel a relieved sigh. _Okay, no more messing around. I'm not the only one who suffers if I get something wrong._ Deep breath in, I plaster on a triumphant smile. "A _Caribbean_ shape that makes ships disappear." _Ha! Chew on that!_ A genuine smile forming.

Twin Jabba's wrinkled forehead wasn't the only one creased in bafflement as minds churn to figure out the meaning of my riddle. Unfortunately for them, they never would. I'd cinched our win and now had only to wait for the inevitable conclusion.

Whiskers tremble furiously and lids lower to slits as I'm studied with anger. "There is no such thing. You have posed a riddle for which there is no answer." Paws clutching the rounded arms of his chair in fury.

Chin lifting in smug achievement and smile virtually maniacal in its evil glee, "actually, yes, there is. It's a triangle. But even if there was none, you were stumped. By the very definition I outwitted you did I not? I believe that's our win, Bacon Bits."

His jaw works wordlessly for a moment before toes relax, the show of temper clearing, and an expression as close to admiring as a nug can get alights his rodent face. "So you did. The match is yours, little _Kallsana_. As promised, the way forward is opened to you," stone groans as our exit once again opens and a new hallway appears behind the massive throne, "along with the spoils of victory." Amber light suddenly shines as though it was originating from within then Less Douchey Jabba is simply gone, as if blinking out of existence.

"Uhh...oka- _Pfftt!!"_ I sputter as a soft bundle abruptly materializes out of nowhere and smacks me in the face. Irked, I rip the thing off and look down at what I assumed was my 'spoils'. The irritation dissipates at the sight of a stunning --shaking it out so I could get a better look-- yup, robe. And I instantly want to gift it to Solas.

A simple, thin robe of the purest black with the smallest hints of gold --and it appeared as though it really was threaded with actual gold-- in the trim and accents rests in my palms. Colors that would set me to dreamily drool if I could get him to wear it. Its weight barely registered so feather light was the satiny soft material. Material that seemed deceivingly delicate but was in truth tougher than Fade-touched chainmail, guaranteeing it was going straight to Solas even if I had to use my horrendous sewing skills to stitch it to him while he slept. A low hum of power beneath my fingertips bespoke of an enchantment, but it was merely an extra bonus in my opinion. Being more excited about the robe's color and its ability to decrease Solas' squishiness.

"Solas!" Happily extending the cloak to him.

Voice tender as he raises a hand with a gentle shake of his head, "thank you, _vhenan_ , but no. It is a thoughtful gesture, and a fine garment. However your safety is paramount. Keep it."

"B-but..." Expression falling in regret at his rejection. "I wanted you to have it. I can't give it to you?" Bottom lip trembling with the disappointment of being denied the chance to see him in dark attire.

"Yes, no, that's not-I-"

Eyes never straying from the dramatic scene as he leans towards Iron Bull, "two royals says he caves." Blackwall whispers.

Huffing a quiet, disbelieving snort, "like I'd take that bet. He was a dead man walking when that lip quivered. Four on the Boss giving it to him because she thinks he'll look 'pretty'."

"You're on."

Expression one of being trapped, "-it is a prize duly earned. Do you not wish to enjoy it?"

Feeling Solas' resistance was crumbling, I beam merrily. "I will be enjoying it. When you wear it." Fighting the urge to clap my hands excitedly, I look to the others when Solas reluctantly accepts the robe with a resigned sag of his shoulders, "did you guys hear that? Duly earned!" Before turning back to him. "It's so rare for you to praise me. I feel inspired!"

"More ominous words have never been spoken..."

An eyebrow twitches, and his features skew as though he shared Dorian's opinion. Briefly considering me before he ventures, "...do I want to ask what you are inspired to do?" Expelling a tired sigh and shaking his head like it was better not to know, "please don't."

"That's quite the enchantment, Boss." Bull comments innocently. "I'm getting the tingles even from here."

"Huh?" A confused blink before I realize what he was referring to. "Oh. Yeah, sure. But don't you think it's going to complement his eyes?" I wistfully reply. Utterly unrepentant in my moony Solas ogling as Bull triumphantly smirks and extends his palm to a pouty Blackwall mutely digging in his pocket behind me.

Grinning at a slightly flushed Solas who bore the look of a man struggling not to pinch the bridge of his nose, "enhancing the brooding eyes. Matching the wardrobe...From woods to parlor. Drab to polished." Grin widening playfully, "Now who's the dandy?"

Glaring daggers at Dorian with an expression declaring they were never to speak of this again, Solas carefully folds his new present and tucks it into his vest before motioning us onward.

~

My body wanted to drag ass but I wouldn't allow it. Fueled by sheer absurdity and shallowness, I made sure I held the lead down our Hallway of Destiny. Determined to win any other tests in the hopes of more awesome shit to guilt Solas into wearing.  

_He's going to be even more purrtyful..._

Teeheeing loudly and nearly raising my fist in sweet, sweet victory as the companions eyed the crazy train with a mixture of leeriness and anticipation for whatever pandemonium was certain to ensue from my enthusiasm.

"Oh, that does not bode well."

Appearing as if he was barely containing a harried sigh, "no. No, it does not."

"I meant for you."

"And I was agreeing."

A glimpse of another chamber, and likely our next trial, peaks from the archway ahead and eagerly I skip forward with a squealed, "come on earring!" Solas' unhappy groan may have drifted from behind me before I flounced away.

Ready for a chance to see bad boy Solas something fierce, I scan the room for whatever needed to be mentally or physically demolished. Eyes sliding over the high vaulted ceiling and glyphed arches of a barred passage in the far left corner before landing on the massive elevated dais practically consuming all of the floor space. It was an impressive platform covered in sand with a single set of stairs to reach the shoulder-high stage and the sole object besides a strange four-foot chiseled tablet mounted on the wall directly across from the chamber's doorway.

 _Stage. Yeah it looks like a stage...A sparring stage maybe?_ Definitely reminded me of one with its shape and lack of -well, anything, decorating or situated on it. But what, or who, were we supposed to fight? There was a whole bunch of nothing in here and unless it was instead a stepping puzzle, then that left only us. An idea I did not find pleasant considering if it was indeed a trial by combat, it likely wasn't something with friendly sparring in mind.

Brows quirk and gazes survey the room, minds likely reaching the same conclusion as mine. I make to climb the stone steps before a heavy gauntleted palm halts me and Blackwall moves to proceed first. At the _thump_ of boot on stair, a guttural voice thunderously echoes within the chamber. Its quality chillingly menacing in its deathly calm.

"So impatient, Warrior. Entry deems order, you _will_ remain down." My eyes skitter across the room, searching for its source while Blackwall bristles from the cold command, seeing no one. "All have passed, all have gathered. There is no passage back, only forward." The leaden grind of stone grates our eardrums as once again our exit is sealed and we are forced to deal with a mysterious entity. "All have come for Favor. Skill will advance, Skill will live. None may aid until it has been assured. Now step forward. The Burning Fool is first to prove their worth."

Lifting an eyebrow and gesturing to myself, "Is that supposed to be me? Geez, what a dick...could've at least made it something cool like 'Ragin' Fool' or something..." But moving for the stairs despite my grumble anyway and bounding up with less than my usual lively energy.

"That's the part we're taking issue with? Your priorities never cease to amaze, my friend." At the same instant Solas' low timbre sternly warns, "Akira, focus. We know nothing of what is expected, it is not the time for games."

As I was alone upon the platform, I twist to look over at him with a saucy smirk. "Hey, alias' are no laughing matter. Besides, if I just need to kick the crap out of someone this is going to be easy as shi- _puh!"_ Stepping out to catch myself as I stagger from having the wind knocked from me. A powerful energy similar to a dampening field --but oh, oh so much worse, had slammed down on the arena. Feeling like it had punched me in the sternum on the way down for giggles.

"Evening the playing field, eh? I see whoever it is did not want to make this simple," smoothing his mustache with a meditative expression.

" _Ugh!_ It feels weird! Why's it feel weird?! The Tempy holes never make it this bad."

"What you experienced until now were mere dampening fields. This...this is a dead space."Answering Sera with a tone laced with somber tension. "Magic will gain no foothold here."

Straightening with a rub of my knuckles over my sternum as Bull adds, "hmm...sounds like a test created to fuck with Mages. I like it already!" Seeming to remember who was on the chopping block first, "but I'm sure you'll be fine, Boss. You're squirrely."

About to add my own comment to that, I quickly snap my mouth shut when the sand underfoot begins to race to a spot twenty feet in front of me. Slowly building into a pile, then a mound, and still it kept converging.

"That better not be forming a goddamn Jellyfish. I swear if I have to get gobbled by a monstrous vagina to win, I'm gon...na..." Words petering out as a shape starts to vaguely emerge.

Thick, trunk-like muscular legs gradually develop. The sand creeping higher and higher until thighs, pelvis, then a chiseled lower abdomen are visible. Why the single thought that went through my mind was, _Ha! Dude's missing his junk!_ instead of, _Holy balls, this guy's huge!_ I don't know. I would've believed the fact a literal, naked eight-foot brawny sandman was supposed to be my test would have warranted a little, _ho fuck!_ reaction, but nope. Too busy cackling about an absence of frank and beans.

"Defeat claims the broken and the fallen. Strive until one remains standing." Mystery voice dispassionately thunders. However this time I caught the eerie glow emitting from the granite tablet on the wall, its foreign carvings flaring brighter each time the voice echoed. "A single chance to prove your worth, leniency holds no place in the path to Favor."

Both eyebrows rise as I puff a breath from between puckered lips, _Great, I'm going to take orders from a rock..._ before sizing up Sand Hulk quietly standing in the center of the massive platform. The gritty grains had ceased their convergence and now a beast of a man waited, unmoving, feet from me. Though he was composed of sand and it looked like anything thrown at him would sink into the soft grains, I was willing to bet he would be as solid as the Vaginafish from before. Squishy, barely substantial, but in actuality like getting clobbered by a boulder.

For the first in a very long time, I was uncertain and hesitant to engage an opponent. Not because of his bulk or height, which was intimidating as shit compared to my measly five-foot-two to say the least, but because I felt...normal. With the dead space as Solas called it in effect, it was as if I was back in the real world. No magic, no power to fall back on. No specialness that set me apart from anyone else in the world. Just...mundane. Human.

And the most surprising thing of all? I hated it.

In the back of my mind I had always believed I would feel relief or perhaps a sense of homecoming being returned to a state I thought was natural, but somewhere along the line...everything had changed. This wasn't natural for me anymore, it wasn't comforting or warm. It was a prison. And now I understood how much of a vile and reprehensible act it would be to compel a world with magic to suddenly become twisted into something it was never meant to be. To be made mundane. Whether the majority of the populace knew it or not, their world permeated magic and beauty, even in the most desolate and ravaged of lands. Was I somehow more sensitive to it because this wasn't my world? Or was it because of _what_ I was? Regardless of the answer, it was distasteful and I was _accustomed_ to a magic-free existence. How would someone born with magic infused in every rock, every blade of grass, every breath they took --unconscious of its presence or not, handle its abrupt departure?

 _Not for me to decide, not my concern._ Stretching my neck to clear away the pointless musings as I forced my legs to get moving, zoning out the rest of the chamber to give the towering figure my full attention.

Steps measured, I begin to circle Sand Hulk, keeping a wide berth while I considered my plan of action. Not a muscle --grain, twitched to track my movement. Instead with sandy sockets devoid of any hint of life, he-it, stayed in place, vacantly gazing at the empty space I once occupied. _Talk about creepy..._

When I had reached his back and still not a tremble, I briefly glance at the huge mitts he called hands; _woo don't get smashed with that,_ before expelling a _screw it!_ breath and dashing forward. Jump stepping into a high roundhouse aimed for his kidney, or more accurately, where a kidney should be, "Swift Flower Love Kick of Justice~!" And instantly regret the decision as shooting pain radiates up my leg. " _FFFF!--Owowowow! Son of a Bitch!_ " Hopping backwards and massaging the offended limb. Holy crackers but it felt as if I just hit concrete.

_New plan!_

Drawing my dagger and praying this wasn't about to shatter it, "shady back alley rules are a go!" Pivoting my hips with a slide of my feet, I slash a deep groove in his ribs before awkwardly spinning away with a pained growl. _Christ!_ Unconsciously jiggling my arm hard at the angry vibrations coursing up it from successful contact.

It had dragged through the seemingly brick flesh well enough, but how badly I desired to check over the precious blade anyway. The as yet unmoving golem was the only reason I settled on blindly gliding my fingertips down the flat of the blade, reassuring myself it remained intact then sheathing it once again.

"Go for the knees, Boss!"

"No, the throat! The throat!"

"Something isn't right, it has yet to retaliate. Do not be lulled. Watch yourself, Akira."

"Bugger's probably broken. You should press the advantage while you can, Inquisitor."

"I'm with your introverted paramour.  Something here reeks and it's not just our disheveled selves."

Way ahead of them and opting to see just how much my plated gloves could really take, I sidle up. Putting all my strength behind a heel kick to Sandman's knee before transitioning into a vicious cross to the base of his neck as the towering legs buckle the smallest bit. Undeterred by the jarring sensation of punching a sidewalk and knuckles liable to be rubbed raw by the end as I wind for another hit. Striking the cracked indention I'd made and settling in to wail on the spot when an unexpected elbow flies lightening fast for my temple. " _SHI-_ " Spine arching back and torso contorting to dodge the blow, I hastily peddle away, feeling the faint scrape of coarse grains against my skin. Jittery nerves and adrenaline shoot to new highs at the narrow escape as the massive body twists around and charges at an impossible speed for one so large.

Huge fists swing in a rapid barrage that I fervently endeavor to avoid, hurtling with an unstoppable force that would bring about an instant and prompt finish if one was to land. My feet scurry to evade jabs and hooks, nearly tripping over themselves in my haste as strikes pass scant centimeters from my face while I struggled to maintain the speed necessary to dodge.

The toes of a boot snag, causing me to tip and stumble down to a knee at the moment a deadly punch sails overhead. Being in prime position and unable to resist the golden opportunity, "Lady Maker!" _Thwack!_ Throwing a right hook straight into Sand Hulk's lackluster genitalia before rotating to fling myself away as strong hips turn to follow. Utterly unfazed, a muscled leg shoots out in a front kick. Powerless to deflect or avoid, my forearms instinctively cross in an effort to protect my chest a split second before brutal impact.

Ah, Gods the pain. And that sound...Pure agony as I'm propelled across the sandy platform. Tumbling in an uncontrolled spin for a moment before trying to roll up into a staggering backpedal and simply succeeding in flopping on my ass. He had chased my progress, was already pivoting to smash down in an axe strike as I frantically launch myself to the side, tossing a clump of sand at his face along the way. "Sparkling fairy spray!"

"Did you just throw sand at eyes made of sand?"

"Be serious, Akira!" Cuts in Solas' livid snarl.

The sad thing was, I was being serious. Maybe not about the spectacular attack titles, okay, who was I kidding, I was serious about those too. I mean any villain worth their salt needed awesome moves; but in my battle not to get pummeled into dust, I was as serious as a coronary. I was trying my best but it didn't appear like I would be able to scrape by much longer. Especially as knees and now leg hooks joined the endless assault of fists gunning to bring me down. My ragged breathing filled the chamber, coming faster and faster as I fought to stay moving. A low leg sweep, a hop to avoid. Right-left jab. Retreat, turn, turn. Hook, duck.

A flurry of limbs I had no means of parrying against and man, it blew majorly.

Crouched from recently ducking yet another right hook and popping up as Sand Hulk throws a jab, I react automatically, royally screwing the pooch.

Right palm pushing his beefy forearm to divert the hit further and gripping for leverage, my stance pivots and hips twist as I drive a high roundhouse towards Sandman's skull.

_Ah, fuck. ABORT! ABORT!_

Too late. Momentum set, the die cast; I'm helpless to stop the train wreck and sure enough my left shin is caught in an iron vise-grip. Fingers squeezing cruelly, sandy muscles tightening; like a whip he completely rotates, bringing me with him. Swinging my body in a hard arc before unceremoniously releasing his grasp and pitching me like a toy over the combat stage. Stone blurs as I'm sent sailing then my shoulder crashes with an unforgiving bounce and rolls to bounce once again with a dragging slide before suddenly the stone beneath me is gone and an alarming feeling of falling hits me.

Crying out in panicked surprise and flailing my arms, there is only a second of the sensation of impacting with the ground before an audible _poof!_ resounds and plumes of pink smoke abruptly engulf my vision.

Coughing, vision suddenly obscured, body feeling extremely...squished, and like there was something covering me, I begin to vigorously struggle to disentangle myself from whatever it was. Hearing the frantic shouts and footfalls of my team converging to where I'd fallen infuses a level of urgency to get free, spurring me on. Finally achieving it, I toss the...fabric? aside just as the companions skid to an incredulous halt high above me. _Huh? High?_

"Andraste's-"

"Oh shi- _NHAHAHA!_ "

" _HAHAHA!_ "

"Well, damn."

 _"Fenedhis na'elvar asha!"_ Wiping a palm down his face in clear vexation as he stares down at me with a frown.

Stares _way_ down. Something wasn't right. The angles...it all seemed off...

Brow creasing with my own frown, I glance down at myself and emit a horrified squeak at the sight of a pair of tiny paws.

 _My_ paws.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Kallsana: (Dwarven) Loosely; Warrior Song  
> Fenedhis na'elvar asha: (Elven) Loosely; Damn it you stubborn woman


	64. Chapter 64

Heart beating a thunderous tempo, I stare down at myself. Past the paws -paws!- and taking in the sight of a long, sleek body covered in fur the color of a rich mahogany with white striped down the belly.

_Oh thank god! Not a nug! Nugs don't have hair. Wait! What the hell am I?_

Such a ridiculous thing to snag on, but it beat having a major freak out which I was teetering on the verge of giving in to as I bend my head so stubby legs could reach my face.

"It-it's not that bad...?" Blackwall's statement sounding more like a question and not helping at all as I pat a pointy snout and encounter sensitive whiskers.

"I think you should keep it, Inky. Imagine the places you could get into!"

_Not helping either, Sera! Jesus, those are small rounded ears...which rodents have rounded ears?!_

"Hmm...The look does suit you, and it would make travel so much simpler, just _plop!_ right in a bag and off we go. Ooh! Maybe we find a little hat for you to wear."

Foregoing my probing exploration to narrow a glare at Dorian's devilishly smirking face, "if I'm stuck like this, yours is the first bag I'm pooping in." Thankful that at least I was still capable of speech. I honestly hadn't been certain what was going to come out when I tried, but now that I knew I could, it did a lot to tame the suffocating panic.

"Now that just sounds spiteful. For shame."

Kneeling to hover his right palm above me, "if it were, it would serve you right for your foolishness. However the transfiguration appears to be linked to this place. It stands to reason leaving will break its hold."

Calmly spoken but the edge of worry lay within the tense pinch of his features. Exasperation, anger; those emotions didn't bother me. Concern did. I wanted to replace his with something better. "But if it doesn't, how do I get anything done? I can't fondle you with these!" Raising my front paws as high as I could and mimicking a squeezing gesture.

It did the trick, loosening his expression to one of _really?_ as Dorian softly chuckles, "as I said, your priorities are astounding."

"Well, you could, Boss. Might be kind of weird though...But hey, I'm not judging. Whatever Solas is into..." Awarding a _what? I was helping_ shrug at Solas' black look directed his way.

"True!" Waving the short limbs in a wiping motion, "it might take a little while but I'm sure I can-"

"No! No." He quickly interjects before I can finish that suggestion. "As it is not a permanent circumstance, the need for such a discussion is moot. Especially not now." He adds while giving me a silent order to behave as he shifts to gather my clothes.

Smiling, or what I assumed, and hoped, was smiling considering the snout, "dodging the issue eh? But-"

"The Burning Fool has fallen. Five remain. Now come, do not falter, there is no retreat. The False Brute is next to prove their worth." Everyone turns to focus on the dais at the guttural announcement, their attention likely on Sand Hulk but I couldn't be sure from so low on the ground.

Snorting at the label, "really? The False Brute? Now someone's just making it easy." and strides for the platform. Ignoring the stairs, Bull instead vaults to the top with the aid of his hands.

"Better than Burning-" Seeing my look, Blackwall hastily corrects, "-Ragin' Fool." as I nod in satisfaction.

Lips pressed in a tight line, Dorian watches the situation transpiring on the dais. "You saw what that thing can do, Bull. It's dangerous, so please, at least _try_ to take this seriously." Expression saying it wasn't probable to happen but wanting to voice it anyway.

"Ha! It's not the danger, I'm the Danger!" Comes the cocky response followed by an excited shout and a noise like something heavy slamming into another weighty object.

"Like telling a thief _not_ to touch the expensive silverware." Throwing his hands in the air with a stressed sigh.

Grunts from the platform, dramatic _oohs_ and cringes from our teammates here on the sidelines...Ugh! I wanted to see too! Even began to hop side-to-side on all fours for a moment before pain in my forearms -forelegs, made itself known and forced me to sit back on my haunches in disappointment.

" _Vhenan_." Leaving my things in a neat pile and extending a hand in offering, amusement brightening his eyes to a pale grey.

Needing no prompting, I happily flop down to drape myself across his palm. My slinky body hanging more than expected as he straightens, Solas swiftly cradles me to his chest, likely believing he was about to accidentally drop his precious cargo. Gently he maneuvers me to lay in the crook of his elbow while I enjoyed Bull going full rampage mode with the others. Too absorbed in witnessing Iron Bull cleave and actually bodily shouldering Sandman's towering form to notice the delicate way I was being handled or that though the hold was secure, I was being held as if Solas feared harming the fragile creature in his arms.

And boy, rampage was a good way to describe Bull's mind-blowing onslaught. Each swing of his massive war axe hacked deep gouges, hew hunks of sand, and overall mercilessly carved up the beast that had been so challenging for me. Granted my arm strength was laughable and I'd probably only inflicted a deep cut because the dagger was enchanted, but it didn't take away from the difficulty of piercing that deceptively pliable flesh. And Bull was chopping through it like a logger hell bent on collecting wood. Not to mention the ability to seemingly shake off any punches with a gleeful grunt then proceed to shove, truly _shove_ , Sand Hulk far enough away to wield his weapon for another round of Action Hero. How I could still be amazed at Bull's insane feats of power was anyone's guess. One thing I did know? I never wanted to fight hand-to-hand against a Qunari, especially when Bull lands a brutal heel kick to Sandy's stomach, causing the golem to hunch in on itself. With zero hesitation Bull arches his back, lifting the large axe high before bringing it down with the full force of his weight behind it, rending clean through grainy skull and throat.

"~damn..." I mutter admiringly, wishing I had the talent for whistling.

"That-a-way, Bull! Ripped him a new one! Now call it Meadow Muffin!"

A breathless chuckle drifts from Bull as he stands at the ready over the fallen Sandman, poised to begin anew when the tablet of doom abruptly flares with light, signaling an imminent proclamation.

"Impressive. Your Skill has pass-"

"What? You're shitting me! Come on, at least send me something bigger!" Bull protests even as substantial bruising was already marring his chest and blood dripped from gashes on his cheek and brow.

"-ed and proven your worth." Impersonally continuing as if Bull never uttered a word. "Step down with the knowledge your advancement was well earned." A grave stillness fills the chamber when the voice pauses without warning, as though it was contemplating its next decree before it returns just as sudden. "Both have entered together but only one may demonstrate their Skill at a time. The Heartbroken and the Stricken Rebel are permitted to choose the first to prove themselves."

Miniature claws automatically clench, barely digging into the thin material of Solas' tunic as I raise my head in alarm at the command, having a pretty good inkling of who one of those names belong to.

"I'm not sure I find either moniker appealing. However our disembodied speaker doesn't strike me as one who particularly cares for that sort of thing." Dorian airily quips, but it lacked his usual zest. The impending match and what he would be forced to combat sparking a touch of trepidation that Dorian was unable to conceal beneath his flippant banter. "So how do we decide who gets the lovely position of first sacrifice? Age before beauty, or beauty before age?"

"So Solas goes first either way." I huff before anyone can get a word in, paws clutching all the harder at the inevitable fight looming and not appreciating it one bit. The single, terrifying thought of, _No magic. He won't have magic._ racing through my mind.

A small smirk flits across his lips then it's gone and stoic confidence settles over his features. "It's fine, Dorian. I will go."

"I was merely joking, Solas. I thought we'd flip a coin."

"There's no need. Unless you are set on preceding me." Turning slightly with the intention of handing me over to Sera who was the closest.

"Well, no, but are you certain? Why?"

"I'm curious." He replies simply and moves to relinquish me to a waiting Sera.

 _No! No! He doesn't have magic right now!_ Attempting to grip him tighter, determined to keep him here longer but it was useless, the petite talons lose their purchase with minimal effort. Perhaps sensing my dismay and seeking to alleviate it, Solas brushes his thumb along my ear before drawing away to pull the robe I'd given to him from the folds of his vest.

Hands steady, he removes belt and tunic, piling the latter to settle atop mine and dressing in the misleadingly flimsy cloak. I follow each elegant stir of Solas' fingers as he fastens his belt, sickening dread mounting as he hoists his staff and starts to climb the stairs, suddenly desperate to know what enchantment the robe was imbued with. Praying it was something ungodly and would help him pound the crap out of Sandman, or at the very least, save him.

I'd been spot on. The man was absolutely scorching in black, and any other time I would be reduced to a drooling puddle --though a teeny bit of moisture might still have escaped, but I was unable to savor his epic sizzle while an already regenerated Sand Hulk serenely stood promising savage violence.

 _Dead space or not, I'll find out what it takes to make you feel pain if you harm him._ I silently vow as Solas braces, widening his stance, preparing to face off.

Breaths bated, a hush quiet descends. None wishing to distract or miss a second. Dignified features coldly composed, Solas stands without moving a muscle, in complete control. Without warning; nothing to give his intentions away, Solas twirls his staff lightning fast with a snap of his wrists. Soundly cracking Sandy across his temple before another flick of the wrist brings the weapon to smash into a knee. The golem had begun reaching for Solas with the initial blow, but stumbled with the second. Using the momentary opening, Solas drives a vicious strike to the skull once again, nailing the exact site of the first before lithely spinning away.

 _Beautiful..._ Incapable of tearing my gaze from the mesmerizing vision Solas created. Drinking in the agile grace with which he stepped just out of range only to glide back for a counter. His every movement, every action, a meticulous calculation that wasted nothing.

This...this was true skill. There was naught to detract from the display and it was plain to all Solas had yet to reveal his limit, perhaps never would. If I hadn't desired him already, this certainly would've assured it. There was just something irresistibly magnetic about a man with the mannerisms of a scholar but the physical prowess of a lethal assassin.

In a constant dance Solas avoids devastating fists, sweeping his staff in fluid arcs with a turn of the wrist. Managing to somehow appear to be the aggressor yet he was the one on the defensive, being gradually herded to the platform's edge. Yells of caution break through the hollow clash, my own near frantic while the rim approaches ever closer. Squirming within Sera's hold in my agitation to the point of almost being dropped as Solas swerves to dodge a crescent kick. A quick jab of his staff in retaliation before pivoting to evade an elbow, a duck, a leap, each bringing him perilously closer. Deftly Solas alters his grip, sliding long digits to the base of the ghoulish powerstone as Sandman lunges. In terrible slow motion Solas pivots to spin away, his athletic form moving directly off the edge, tipping to tumble down.

But he never does.

Impossibly, miraculously; he saves himself. In a stunt of stunning dexterity, Solas plants his staff, utilizing it as a fulcrum and landing beside Sandy upon the dais. The butt of the weapon shoots out, colliding with more force than before, utterly shattering Sand Hulk's knee. With a burst of grains, Sandman topples. Wasting nothing, Solas spins to strike again, the full weight of his body behind the blow to send the golem straight over the rim and plunging to the stone below.

His staff comes to rest with a wooden _thunk_ upon the dais, features poised and manner seemingly unruffled by the explosion of sand with the golem's touchdown as he meets our gaping faces.  "I theorized triggering transfiguration required bodily contact. It seems I was correct."


	65. Chapter 65

"Cunningly done, Rebel. You may step down with-"

Sputtering in flabbergasted disbelief, " _t_ _heorized?_ You mean you staked your life on a hunch?" Completely ignoring Magic Rock's tedious speech.

Calmly striding for the stairs with a quirk of his brow at Dorian, "would you have preferred to test it yourself?"

"Gods no! Contrary to my choice of company, I'm not insane." He retorts before nervously kneading his neck. "I suppose this makes it my turn now." and expels a steadying breath. "Right, let's get this over with then." Slipping the staff from his shoulder and walking to pass Solas on his way down.

Body dangling as I'm held around my middle, a grinning Sera uses me as a pointer as she addresses Solas, "Oy, Solas! Think she prefers your boring breeches!" Then, knowing I'd find it great fun and it would have the added bonus of bothering him, Sera tosses me high in a soft lob before I even realize what's about to happen.

Legs sprawling on instinct at the feeling of weightlessness, "Wee! I'm a sugar glider!" while Solas' panicked curse simultaneously comes.   

 _"Fenedhis!"_ Instantly dropping his staff and using both hands to catch me in a gentle scoop. His arms quickly curl to pull me protectively against his chest, pressing me into a hammering heart as Solas straightens with a furious glare. "Sera!"

"What?" Shrugging innocently at the reprimand. "If you didn't want her, should've told me. Here, just throw her back."

The fierce snarl deepens at her jest. " _Ma vira seth._ " He intones in a menacing growl.

The lapels of his robe were pushing just right into my folded foreleg, and much as I loved my position, I wiggled to try to alleviate the pressure as Sera merely giggled at the threatening tone. "Oh, poked on that one."

Unprepared, I emit a pained squeak when Solas inhales and compresses the leg further. Effectively preventing his response to immediately loosen an already lax hold and look down worriedly. "I'm sorry, _vhenan_."

"No it wasn't you." I hasten to clarify. "Just sore from Sandy's flirtatious bap." Partially true. Actually it had begun to hurt like a bitch but no way was I going to complain.

Some of the concern fades at my description, softening his expression. "Now you sound like Bull." Solas dryly comments before carefully arranging me on one arm so he was free to retrieve his staff.

"Cut the pageantry, Dorian! You're begging for a fist to that pretty face." Iron Bull calls from the sidelines, bringing our focus back to the current situation on the dais.

And yikes was it hair raising, no wonder Iron Bull was frustrated.

Where Solas' actions were clipped and smoothly direct, Dorian's were full of beauty and embellishment. He had yet to adapt his fighting style to handle the deficit of magic and lack of a better word, was showboating. There was an almost artistic refinement to the sweep of his staff and spin of his heel, but for all the polish, it was needlessly excessive. Wasting precious milliseconds to infuse an extra hint of elegance to every movement when there were none to spare already.

 _Thwack._ Barely deflecting a massive fist with a hard turn of his wrist then again, driving an uppercut. The grainy skull snaps forward, oblivious of the blow, nearly cracking Dorian with a head-butt. Feet swift, he glides sideways, swiping out in a fast counter before rotating in a wide arc to belt the golem across its spine. The hollow rap of wood, the gentle rustle of cloth; they become a tense rhythm. Humming over the platform as Dorian sways and twists to escape relentless blows. Gradually giving ground, incrementally losing momentum. Slowly being forced into a corner. There was no question of who was the aggressor in this match, only how long Dorian would last before a strike finally found its target.

Blazing quick Sandy launches a side knee, brushing Dorian's hip before he could fully evade, breaking his stride to spin in an awkward stagger. A vicious rumble from my right answers his surprised grunt, tearing my gaze from the fight for a moment to glance at Bull.

"No more flashy crap, Dorian!" Truly getting agitated now.

But it was already futile. In the midst of Dorian's stumbling, Sand Hulk pulls back for a savage heel kick as he had done to me. Powerless to dodge, Dorian tightens the grasp on his staff, shoving the reinforced weapon to meet the blow, using it as a shield to absorb the worst of the impact. The sickening reverberation of wood colliding with solid resistance unconsciously registers as Dorian's body violently skids across the stone before hopelessly tumbling over the platform's edge and plummeting to the floor. Feet race to round the dais even before the audible _poof!_ and waft of accompanying pink smoke herald his defeat, concerned for what condition we would find him after such a harsh hit and subsequent wipe-out.

"Dorian! You alright?" Dashing straight for robes eerily flattened save for a small lump vigorously writhing.

Bull kneels, brusquely tugging elaborate material to the side at the same instant a fuzzy head pops up. "Fine, Bull, though my pride may have taken a dive." Dorian; or an animal with the voice of Dorian, grumpily huffs. 

At my first gander at the mage, uncontrollable mirth bursts forth and I merrily point,  " _HAHAHA_! You-you're a ferret! _HAHAHA_! Mu-mustache! H-he even has a m-mustache! _HAHAHA_!"

His warm chocolate head tilts in my direction, a deadpan expression on the adorable little face as Dorian waggishly remarks, "and what do you think you are?"

" _HAHAH-eh?"_ Laughter halting as I glance down at myself. "Aww..." Tiny shoulders sagging.

Sharing a look with Solas, Dorian slowly shakes his head deprecatingly before being scooped up and the guttural echo of Judgmental Tablet startles us. "The Heartbroken has fallen alongside the Burning Fool. Both are poor displays. Unworthy. Proceed, Regretful Coward, prove your Skill or join the ranks of the lost."

Eyebrows rise and looks of curiosity greet that newest moniker as Blackwall hisses in outrage, " _Coward_? I dare you to repeat that to my face."

Tone unchanged and indifferent, "proceed, Regretful Coward, or be forfeit." Responding as if it had indeed been asked to repeat itself.

Left with no alternative and recognizing it was pointless to argue with an enchanted rock, Blackwall puffs a displeased grunt then marches to take his turn. In a rare show of tact, Sera ignores the revealing alias to clap him on the shoulder when he passed. "Cram it up Walking Dunny's arse." Grinning in steadfast trust and easy friendship at the comrade who'd offered himself as a living shield in countless battles.  

Seeing their camaraderie, his soft chuckle at her suggestion while calmly marching to engage in a deadly sparring match with an oversized brute; I hastily shift my attention elsewhere. Suddenly restless and fidgety with the overwhelming desire to blurt the truth. Knowing the others would eventually understand, that Blackwall could begin to forgive and find a measure of peace. But knowing I could never reveal any of the dooming secrets tightly bottled inside threatening to suffocate and consume, knowing more than just my life depended on my silence. On my deception.

Eyes skim over a teasing Iron Bull commenting on drawing a line, he was game for kinky and weird but not _this_ weird, he wasn't Solas; and lifting to smile up at Solas' unamused face above me. "I'm happy you're into weird," bringing those pretty greys to focus on me, "because you'll let me to do this if this is permanent." Stubbornly stuffing the pain down so I could twist in his arms and playfully scrub my paws over his breast.

A wryly quirk of his brow at that before Solas drolly states, "it is not. And 'let' is very different than 'welcome'."

Gasping and fixing him with a look of mock hurt, "my fondling isn't welcome? But _these!"_ Flexing miniature claws at him.

Lush lips press in an _I will not find it funny_ line as his lids lower over greys brightened with humor. "Only if the goal is the assurance of separate sleeping arrangements, _vhenan_."

"Oh, well," breathing a ditsy snort. "we can't have that, so it's a good thing I'm naked then. Just flying bare, everything in the breeze. Laying here with my furry, naked body rubbing all up on you."

Expression one of a man desiring to pinch the bridge of his nose, or shake his head, or probably both, "I'd hoped that detail escaped your notice." Solas confesses as the metallic clang of a serious assault captures his focus.

Enjoying this, mine remained on him, certain Blackwall had it in the bag like Bull. "I'm impressed, that was so optimistic!"

"Indeed."  The faint smirk at last breaking through while astute eyes continued their track of Blackwall's bout. A bout that sounded heated behind me but I'd seen Blackwall fight and was confident he'd earn a win. Another heavy clank followed by a coarse curse from the platform doesn't pull my attention away, no, it was the sharp clearing of Solas' features that did it. Getting me to whip my head around in time to witness Blackwall, in near full chainmail, being held overhead by beefy limbs and inhumanly hurled to soar well past the dais' ledge.

 _"Ho shi-!"_ Shocked and disbelieving even as the poof of ferret making smoke abruptly billows.

Though not having to step far before a Dorian toting Iron Bull can reach the seemingly empty armor, a bristly tail chased by a fuzzy grey butt wiggles out from beneath the collar. A moment later a head appears, and whiskers twitching irritably, lowers a black chin to study stubby paws. "Bullocks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Ma vira seth: (Elven) Loosely; You walk thinly


	66. Chapter 66

"Blackwall, come on!" _Tsking_ in feigned disappointment at him.

"One job, Furrows. Where was that firm grip?" Joining in on the ribbing with a giant grin as he lowers to a squat.

Issuing a breathy half snort, half chuckle at our teasing and sitting back on his haunches to cross short forelegs, "Crushed alongside my pride. Bundled and bodily tossed like dirty laundry tends to make a firm grip useless."

" _Nghaha_. More like a dirty lover who got caught arse up breeches down-"

"Pitiful displays, unworthy of Favor." Booms the guttural voice, cutting into our banter. Its manner chilling in its continued lack of emotion despite anything it witnessed. "The Regretful Coward has joined the fallen. Your Rigid Child is the last to prove themselves. Pray for your Skill or you will follow those before."

Leveling her gaze on the glowing tablet of destiny, Sera indifferently turns her head to spit. Taking all the time in the world before lazily palming her bow. "Bossy for a dumb rock. Maybe some new paint will get the pebbles out its back hole." She grumbles but lithely strides to bound up the platform stairs regardless.

"Be careful, Sera. Watch for-"

"It has a mean right-"

"Look out for its feint hoo-"

" _Dude_ , watch your tits up-"

" _Ugh!_ Shut it! I'm not daft, you babbling tatters." Rolling her eyes at the rapid-fire pointers. "I have eyes don't I?" And shakes her head with exasperation as she calmly notches an arrow.

Perhaps it was Sera's words or her calm motions of readying her weapon that signaled _begin_ , but suddenly the fight was on. One second Sand Hulk stood motionless as it had five times previous, seemingly waiting for a cue then in a flash it swung. Moving with frighteningly inhuman speed to swiftly and mercilessly bring down its opponent while offering nothing by way of a visual tell.

The twang of her bow's release whispers as Sera leaps backwards, matching the towering golem's monstrous speed perfectly, spinning and vaulting just out of reach as the steady strum of string and whistle of wood echoes through the hushed chamber. Gracefully her body arches, steps, and twists. Like a beautifully lethal dancer Sera moves across the grainy dais, bombarding Sandman with a hail of arrows. He stumbles, his punch swiping wide after a well aimed shot to the side of his kneecap. With the nimble actions of one who had gained mastery of their weapon, Sera braces both hands on her bow. Placing them as one would wielding a staff while pressing close in a slide-step, she pivots her hips to drive the butt of her bow across Sandy's bent face in a rude backhand then follows her momentum to duck away in cackling glee.

Sand Hulk topples to all fours, his huge body hunching only for a moment, already recovering before beginning to unfurl when Sera straightens from her spin and plants her feet with a giddy smile. Dexterous fingers draw her bowstring fully, priming an arrow coated in some sort of brightly colored oily substance I never caught her applying or pulling from her quiver before she's releasing it just as quickly.

The sharp whistle of wood and feather cleaving air, the solid, audible _thunk_ of impact; they sound in a snap as Sandy's spine arches backwards from the hit then a deafening explosion similar to fireworks going off too close pierces our ears. There's naught to lessen the unexpected ringing as most of the left side of Sandman's torso bursts in a gritty shower to irritatingly blind us temporarily. I rub the grating sand from my vision as Sand Hulk slowly collapses back in a sit, catching himself with his single arm when he starts to fall, appearing to refuse defeat. Sera confidently saunters to circle him, pulling another of those arrows covered in that ridiculous liquid with measured purpose as she halts directly in front of him. With relaxed and deliberate movements, Sera draws her arrow while Sandy lurches in an attempt to get up and coolly loosens it to lodge squarely in Sandman's smooth forehead. The second burst of sand is nearly instantaneous and minimally better than the first thanks to the persistent ringing in my ears as the remainder of the top half of Sandman's chest is blown away. In a second of utter stillness, the rest of the massive body maintains its form before teetering back. Crumbling in a cascade of soft grains when its muscled physique thumps to the worn tile.

Surprised silence and embarrassment reign while we absorbed the knowledge of how simple each bout could have been if we had thought to coat our weapons in Sera's potions. Wanting to smack ourselves for the oversight considering there had been no rule stating outside aid other than people couldn't be utilized. And Sera merrily descending the platform in her usual Elfin appearance supported its allowance, further needling the feeling. I was the queen of working smarter not harder, I should be banished to the shame corner for missing it.

Anticipating Magic Rock's rough voice after so many interruptions; and even eager for it at this point, it's not long before it fills the chamber and wipes all other thoughts away. "The Rigid Child has proven herself with resourcefulness. With this, Skill is complete. Go, the way to Favor is now open to you." Causing a collective sigh and relaxing of muscles among us when true to its word, the grind and scrape of gears turning and hallways are unlocked resound.

"Thank the Maker." Blowing a relieved breath from his perch alongside Blackwall in Bull's arms. "Let's get this over with so we can turn back. Fur is not my idea of a fashionable accessory." Two whole-heartedly second that notion and preparation for gathering discarded items would have been next on the agenda if not for Doom Tablet's foreboding decree that chased Dorian's comment.   

"Three have shown their worth and deserve advancement. The others are lost and will remain."

Tails bristle and squeaks of vehement denial automatically answer Wonder Stone's pronouncement. "Oh, you can go fuck yourself."

"Not bloody likely, bugger that!"

"Don't count on it you oversized paper weight."

The forearm beneath me tenses, pressing me tighter against unforgiving ribs, bracing for a fight. "We will not abandon them here." A hard, determined edge steeling over his features that was shared by Bull and Sera.

"Skill and worth have been proven, Favor awaits, however the three must remain. To refuse means the taking of their burden and further trial."

A disdainful snort, "that's not much of a choice. What is the 'taking of their burden'?" Subtly shifting Blackwall and Dorian so they rested together in the crook of his left elbow while the right drifted to his heavy axe.

Sand that had lain splattered and scattered races to converge once again at Bull's question. Sculpting Sand Hulk in front of our eyes in a matter of seconds. "They are the fallen, unqualified enough to advance. To progress, their defeats must be made victories,-" A pained squeak of surprise erupts as the sensation of vicious fingers pinching along my spine seize me and I'm abruptly snatched to rocket straight for Sandman like I was attached to some sort of hellish, inescapable zip-line. Anxious shouts, hands clutching to recapture, the remainder of Douche Tablet's informative speech; they blend together as Dorian and Blackwall's trajectory intersects mine and three slinky bodies crash into one another right before a hole opens in Sandy's sternum and we're thrust inside. It's a jumble of squirming limbs when we bang into Sandy's chest cavity and the frantic clamor of worried teammates outside for a split moment then total quiet and pitch darkness as the hole molds shut to seal us within. It was as if we had been thrown into a soundless vacuum without a hint of light. Not even a haze of grey was present to break the absolute black engulfing us. Only the noise of our mingled breathing and frantic wiggling penetrates the silence, staving off barely a fraction of the panic rising inside me.

"Screw this, I'm not getting beaten by a lump of sand again." Flopping and twisting to disentangle myself as I roll to find the wall of our little prison.

A winded _mmphf_ thumps beside me when I collide with something solid and coarse. "Might not be much help to the others the way we are now, but I'll be damned if I'm used as a liability. I'm with you, Inquisitor, we claw our way out if we must."

I nod in the direction of Blackwall's voice although the darkness prevented him from seeing it, glad for the rudimentary plan as it was. The scratch of tiny talons vigorously laboring perforates the eerie stillness, bringing to mind the condemned desperately trying to claw their way from a coffin, causing me to dig all the harder. Reassured as I had been to have something to focus on to impede the mounting fear, the frenzied _scrape-scrape_ consuming the confined space rapidly began to surpass that small level of comfort. It was too close, too close to being buried alive. I halt the near mindless burrowing to slam my shoulder over and over again against the golem's inner walls, uncaring of the building ache.

Give me anything, give me unfathomable heights to tumble from, I would choose anything over the gradual and conscious suffocation of being buried alive.

"Stop! Stop. This is doing us little good." Dorian calls from the dark, sounding somewhat breathless himself though I was sure he hadn't participated in our mad digging. "As much as we may wish to get out of this ourselves, we can't. I'm sure you've noticed by now, but there isn't a crack anywhere, nothing for air to circulate from. We're trapped and it will become difficult to breathe. Our best chance of survival is to trust in the others outside and to stay calm."

No sooner did the terrifying confirmation that we were shut in an airless void register then the grains underfoot shift and the whoosh of sand shooting in front of my face wrings a startled cry. Sand crowds, pushing and shoving until I'm forced to stumble and topple backwards. I'm repeatedly bounced and jostled as the sand around me continues to actively move as if it was morphing, heedless of the fragile creatures inside it when suddenly it decreases then stops altogether.     

The all-encompassing black and disturbing quiet is like a poison to my sanity as I scramble up. Nervously I slide my paws over what appeared to be a new wall before slapping the soft pads against it in vain. "Dorian! Blackwall! Anyone!" Battling the dreadful thought that it felt as though the space surrounding me had shrunk.

I knew Dorian was correct. I knew what was supposed to be done if you were trapped within a confined space. But try as I might, I couldn't help the erratic pace of my heart or the ever escalating speed of my breaths. Being entirely blind, unable to properly take a breath, it ate through my reason. I was starting to hyperventilate, recognized it even as it was happening, recognized it for the worst thing I could possibly do, but no amount of willpower was reeling it back in. My lungs and throat were burning now, it felt like my chest was being squeezed. As quickly as I inhaled, it never felt like enough. I was being dragged down. The racing thoughts, the fears; they were being tugged down right along with me. Slowing, growing sluggish, fading more and more. I struggled against it, or perhaps I merely believed I did.

A dark shroud was creeping over my mind and I was powerless to cease its advance. Laden lids too heavy to remain open close and vaguely the fact I was crumpled on the floor comes. Such a silly thing, it didn't matter anymore, nothing did. I had feared something, worried about something, but that didn't matter. Sleep. That must have been it, I was so exhausted.

Light pricks my eyelids, sending spots of color like miniature suns over the sensitive membrane. A cool breeze; not the stagnant air of my tomb, ruffles my fur then the sensation of a rough, callused palm enveloping my limp body brings a tentative sense of consciousness. Puncturing a measure of the foggy veil blanketing my mind.

Harsh coughs plague me as lungs starved for air inflate, stabbing through more of the haze, hauling me further from the brink. Eyes strive to open as I'm lifted from a pile of sand and the sounds of the chamber drift to me as if through a muffled filter. The rattling of my strained inhales, the voices of comrades; they're barely audible through the cotton that seemed to have taken residence in my ears. Vision swimming, I'm able to crack my lids open for a second before they're pulled shut by an insurmountable weight.

A bloodier Iron Bull lifting me from the grainy remains of Sandman. _Blink_. Sera; bruised and disheveled more than usual crouched on the tile farther away, worry bracketing her features as her hands swipe at a pile of sand until they encounter a motionless Dorian. _Blink._ A scarcely cognizant Blackwall being plucked from a third mound by Solas. _Blink_.

At the last, they stay shut though I desired otherwise. My brows scrunch, something was wrong. Something had been very wrong about it. Tired. Though I was so incredibly tired, I order my eyes to open again. Attempt to move unresponsive legs, but it was for naught. The few moments of semi-clarity were dissipating and the shroud was swallowing me once more.

_Can't go. Can't go yet. Solas. Something was wrong with Solas..._

And then there it was. The mental click just as oblivion claims me and I could only shriek my fury into the void.

Blood streaming from the side of a pallid face. A right arm cradled to their breast as the left is used to retrieve Blackwall. An arm capable of creating such delicate and meticulous wonders, of offering such tender and loving affection, of providing a safe-harbor for the weak.

It had been nauseatingly twisted and broken.

~

Urgency nudged the edges of consciousness insistently, prodding me to rouse and remember something important. Ages seem to pass before lethargy loosened its iron grip enough to pry resisting lids partially open and memory to vaguely return.

_Magic. Magic is gone and Solas is badly injured._

Sight fuzzy and not entirely focused, I blearily try to move my head at the disjointed sound of familiar voices.

"-ke a tousled ghoul." Bull throws over his shoulder as he settles his stance in front of Solas and reaches for his right arm.

Blackwall's weary timbre answers from nearby. Bringing into view a rumpled looking ferret seated upon folded fabric. "Better than Dorian,-" twisting slightly to pat something next to him. A ferret, another ferret lay beside him; _Dorian, it had to be Dorian_ , silent and unmoving. "or Solas for that matter. How bad is it?"

Lips usually lush and giving are thinned by firmly controlled agony and I fixate on them like a beacon. Watching as they mutely move. No...not mute. I was sinking again and I desperately fight against it, needing to know his response. The harsh lines of fatigue etched on Solas' handsome face were so pronounced, it was maddening. They taunted and mocked as I slipped under, the evidence of my failure to be something other than a burden.

"-ted but stuck like this, it may as well be waltzing on top of me. I'm infuriatingly useless."

The words poke into the nothingness, their frustration clear. My muddled cloud lifts for a minute, allowing me to realize I'd been out and Dorian had come awake. I wanted to join them, determine for myself everyone's welfare. However I couldn't even manage to open my eyes this time before everything's gone.

~

Sensations, the soft hum of comrades; gradually an awareness less tenuous than before burrows through the emptiness. Bringing me to the surface to feel a comforting warmth unlike the sickly heat of earlier cocooning me. The floor gently swayed and rocked beneath me; wait, not the floor. It was a body. I was being carried by someone. And by the inviting scent wrapping itself around me as surely as the warmth, I knew who.

Lids weighed down by slumber groggily rise, noticing first the unfamiliar passageway we traveled before perceiving the two figures walking alongside and their cargo. A tad sooty but relatively unharmed Sera sauntered with a lazily draped Blackwall over her head while Dorian had elected to dangle himself like a scarf across the back of Bull's neck in order to remain out of the way. Doubtful it was an easy or comfy ride for him considering the thickness of Bull's throat and lack of anything to really hold onto. Never the less he managed to hold his perch despite hanging awkwardly. Bull could have settled him elsewhere but with the extra load of our gear he carried, it limited options. Using Blackwall's shield as a sort of giant platter, staff and sword had been threaded through the straps while boots and neatly folded clothes were stacked and belted to keep it all together. Creating a jerry-rigged backpack Bull lugged on one shoulder which left a hand free for his axe. The gear had to be heavy or at the very least ungainly to tout, however Bull didn't seem fazed by it. In fact other than the splotches of crimson painting him, Bull looked quite his usual jovial self.   

Blood smears and dusty smudges aside, both Sera and Bull appeared much improved from last I saw. The vicious jolt that thought slams me with as full wakefulness roars back is instant. Obliterating the lingering fog at the memory of hurt and stoicism on a face that I was beginning to realize might have a frighteningly powerful hold over me.

The forearm pressed to my belly tenses in reaction and fingers clench to keep me secure as a low but tired voice tries to tenderly soothe, " _Shh..._ It's all right, it is only me. You and the others are free." Mistaking the reason for the fierce start.

Lucky for me I had a ferret's apparent lack of spine else I would have given myself whiplash with the speed in which I snapped my head back to look up at him. Absorbing each speck of blood that had escaped a hurried wipe and alluring greys that had dimmed with exhaustion and perhaps even residual pain before zipping my gaze to the hand that held me.

"You were hurt," blurting the distraught thought without a hint of preamble or tact while sparing a fleeting glance to scan over Sera and Bull once again. "I saw it." As if this somehow explained everything.

 _I hadn't been wrong had I? I couldn't have imagined it right? No way would I have dreamt that._ Worriedly running forepaws over muscles plainly felt through deceptively delicate material. Unable to figure out how mages used their magical mojo to seemingly x-ray injuries and wishing for the thousandth time I was smart enough to bastardize a healing spell to work with my magic.

"We're good, Boss." Taking it upon himself to answer while smirking in a manner that said he knew exactly who most of the concern was truly for.

"Yes. The dead space dispersed with your release, however the transfiguration's range of influence appears to be farther than expected-"

"Meaning we have to be patient and finish this menagerie of ludicrously before losing the summer coats." Dorian drolly interjects from his perch on Iron Bull.

Wisps and tendrils of energy were there, I could feel them now but I honestly didn't care though it meant magical capabilities had been returned. Bull --but more importantly Solas, hadn't actually answered my question, simply diverted. Magic or no, his arm had been terribly broken. "How long have I been out for?" Dividing my attention between Bull and Solas, looking for any glimpse of hesitation.

"Eh, half hour. Nothin' to get twisted over, been boring as-"

 _What?! Half hour?_ Mind snaring on that detail, utterly phasing out Sera. It wasn't enough time to fix that kind of damage plus heal the others, no way. I wasn't a doctor by any means but I'd had enough things go _snap!_ since landing in Thedas to know his break had been bad and required time and precision. Maybe if he'd had Dorian's assistance, however I knew he hadn't. I'd tried pulling magic to me in a futile attempt to perhaps be helpful but it had felt like an invisible force was thwarting my efforts, similar to when Solas leashed it. If there was a block on casting for me, Dorian certainly had it. "Your arm. Is your arm okay? Does it hurt? Put me down, I can walk, I'm good." Squirming to jump from his hold, everything coming out in a rush and a tad on the hysterical side. Worst of all, none of it was an overstatement. I felt awesome aside from being overly fuzzy. Infuriating, stubborn, sweet man had wasted precious mana on mending me.

"Akira, wait, stop." Shoulders faintly hunching as his left arm curls with staff in hand to hinder the thoughtless leap. "It's fine, calm, _vhenan_. There was nothing to cause serious concern."

Tiny claws flex, clutching fabric in nervous uncertainty as eyes rove over pale features, searching for the truth. "Not broken?"

"Whatever injuries I sustained have been handled." Solas gently informs. The softening of his expression lessening the drained appearance so that the crinkle of crow's feet could be seen. "For now, the trial ahead is of greater importance. Possibly one of conviction if there is indeed commonality between tests."

 _Handled..._ Lowering my chin to study the small paws slowly grasping and relaxing over an allegedly recovered limb. Grasping and relaxing. _Handled..._ Paying no mind to the team debating on the likely type of trial awaiting. Pressing my lips together to refrain from speaking or uneasily chewing on them. _That wasn't a direct answer. Fractured, it's probably fractured. Stabilizes the arm enough to fight and leaves time to mend the others. Didn't lie, technically not a lie..._ Fisting the material hard as I swallow against the bitterness before commanding myself to release him and wordlessly climb to settle in his robe's collar. Refusing to respond in anything other than nods to queries and suggestions in regard to my comfort and wellbeing, afraid of what would spill out otherwise. Recognizing that for the first time, I was bothered by Solas' proclivity for omissions and my inability to pretend to be anything other than the naive Dalish as I silently lay observing the staff that never switched to a right palm though it was the dominant one and now free.

~

It was ebbing already. The upset and anger diminished with every step, every inhale of bewitching spice from my spot across Solas' neck. Being replaced with gratitude for his safety and reassurance at having his presence near.

Frustrating. It was frustrating as shit sometimes not being able to hold a grudge or stay mad.

"Yeah, that certainly isn't suspicious."

I pop my head from the shelter of Solas' robe at Bull's flippant comment, on instant alert. My circular nonsensical musings forgotten. Mist was rolling over the floor in dense coils that billowed in thicker clouds the farther down the corridor we were to negotiate. Eventually forming a vapory screen in which we would be forced to blindly pass through if we wished to continue. A deed we may not have been so hesitant to undertake if not for the memory of our last encounter with dubiously wafting fog.        

"That's no ordinary fog." Dorian pipes in at the same moment Solas states, "I sense a spatial distortion here."

"This another of those funny peach monsters?" Pausing just out of reach of the haze to poke it with the tip of her bow.

Bringing us to a halt beside her, "no..." A furrow creasing his brow as he surveys the corridor and its mystery miasma. "It emits little by way of conductivity. The fog seems to act as a channel for the distortion beyond."

"Hmm..." Stroking his miniature mustache while locking his gaze on the wall of mist. "Energy signature feels comparable to the pocket you three previously experienced...Could be a straight ticket to vermin paradise."

"Don't make a difference though does it?" Blackwall sighs, his slinky body drooping with resignation atop Sera's head. "We can't leave what's here for Corypheus. Not after coming this far."

" _Nrugh._ Damn magic mist." A growled grumble before shifting his load in preparation and addressing us, "close together."

Nods and mute affirmatives as Sera and Solas tightly flank Iron Bull, their footfalls kicking up airy plumes as they approached the smoky curtain. A breath before entering the gloom Solas' palm comes to rest over me, protectively covering and pressing me firmly to him before stepping within the dewy sheen.

I was sandwiched yet it felt as if my whole body was exposed and brushing each bead of moisture the second we're engulfed. Setting me to fidget restlessly and rub against Solas in an attempt to soothe the constant crackle and pop of energy darting over my skin. It was worse than being sucked into Nug Sanctuary, at least then it had simply been an annoying buzz I could ignore. Either there was a fundamental difference in the spells or my transfiguration was compounding matters, but it was near overwhelming.

Likely understanding my discomfort, fingers lightly massage while grunts and unhappy snorts sound from the mist. Sera and Bull had been mere feet from us when Solas entered yet only agitated huffs signaled the others were nearby. Faint outlines then silhouettes begin to materialize as incrementally the substantial haze recedes until I could clearly see the team marching with us. Color filters through the grey not long after, lighting our way as more punches through. Opening and parting the gloom entirely to reveal a grassy meadow ringed by fog. A dim murkiness encased the area, creating an atmosphere of early morning. However there was something about the lushly green field that was just...off. And it had nothing to do with the knowledge its existence was impossible within an underground tomb. Or the group of white robed individuals bowed in reverence before a blonde man with his arms and face raised to the heavens in pious bliss.

Exchanging glances at the scene, Bull, Sera, and Solas move forward. Drawing us closer so that we could hear the zealous rambling that was supposed to pass as a prayer.    

"-Let thineself be onto his holy shrine that you may become as the one. To become one, one must become as the one. Become one with us.-"

"Oh, goody, we stumbled onto a cult."

"If this doesn't have 'freaky orgy' written all over it, I'm losing my touch."

The corner of his lips lift in a small smirk at Dorian and Bull's reaction as he stops a safe distance from the gathering and leans partly on his staff, a teasing lilt in his manner."Perhaps the test is understanding the prayer."  

"-Only by becoming the one as the one can one be-"

"Wait! Wait! Is it, 'the one'?" Sera loudly mocks.

Never missing a beat despite the heckling, "-as the one. We encourage you to be one with us as the one in the one." The priest  dramatically finishes with a lowering of his face to stare at our party.

"That's a mouthful."

"I'm sensing a theme." I chip in as there's movement in my periphery. Eyes sliding to look, I'm rendered speechless before an automatic bark of laughter rocks me. I would have slipped from Solas' neck if not for his quick grip. " _HAHAHA!_ Ah, shit, Bull called it." Desperately trying to breathe through the mirth and tears the sight of a goat skin wearing naked man brings.

Proudly the newcomer strutted from the edge of the meadow to join the awaiting priest amid an air of expectation. Robed men and women who had been kneeling reverently raise their heads as they extend their hands to the sky at his appearance, their expressions one of euphoria.

His arms open wide in an encompassing gesture as the priest's gaze takes in all those present, "devoting thineself to the one to be as the one will bring one to the one." He turns to lovingly cradle the face of the man in the goat mantle, keeping the volume of his voice high so he could be heard, "Show thine willingness to be one-" Lowering a hand to disappear from sight.

"Hup, things are going to get kin-" the hand returning with knife in tow, "-Ho damn!" Bull exclaims in a wince as the newcomer is castrated without warning. Horrified squeaks, sympathetic curses, and squeamish cringes echo, drowning out the fanatical conclusion of the priest's litany.

"Bloody arsebiscuit let his wick get gone!"        

"Oh, fuck! It escalated so fast!" Rearing back with a grimace and stuffing my snout in Solas' collar.

" _Vishante kaffas!_ Why?!" 

 _"Fenedhis!"_ The normally unruffled features scrunched in a 'poor dumb bastard' wince that was shared by our male team members.

"Maker's balls! No! Just, no!"

Crimson stained the front of the priest's once pristine robe as he stood over the writhing figure of the naked man. Bloody blade still in hand, he turns to fully face us, head tilting as he watched our response. For the first time he speaks in an utterly sane voice and addresses us specifically as though he hadn't just spewed an illogical rant and gelded a guy. "You're bothered, the choice was wrong. Faith has many forms. Religious faith is unsuited for you."

Before there's time to digest his words or even ask what kind of weird religions he's been pulling as reference, the grassy meadow and everything within it is whisked away. In a blink it's all gone, completely swallowed by mist and leaving our little band in a wasteland of grey. I open my mouth to comment and in the next instant even the others are suddenly disappeared. One moment we stood together then just nothing. No feeling of being snatched or eaten by a portal. No glowing light of Omnipotence. Simply _boop!,_ you're on the ground by yourself surrounded by impenetrable fog.

" _Tsk!_ Mother. Fucker." Sitting back on my haunches and peering in every direction to be sure I was truly alone. "Hey! Dick Mangler! Give me back my friends!" More than fed up with this tomb's tendency to do anything it can to mess with us. After that display in the meadow, I didn't trust whatever entity controlled this place not to hurt the others in some kind of warped ritual. "Bring my squad back unharmed! I know you can hear me Dong Buster, don't you ignore me! I might be stuck like this, but I have teeth! They're small and sharp! Good for getting in there and causing terrible itchiness! Think of the scabs!" Silence and lazily swirling mist were my answer. "You touch one of them, I'm going to make you regret it! Especially if you maim the bald one!" Shaking my head and getting riled just thinking of it. "You try your shit on him, I swear I'll use this body that doesn't follow the laws of nature and cram myself so far up your ass you'll be constipated for eternity!" I pause, face skewing as I replay my threat. "In hindsight, you probably don't poop and it'll probably be more horrific for me but all well, still stands! Promise is a promise! I'll do it! Wedge right up there!" Huffing, I sit, waiting for something to happen. I purse my lips when minutes seem to tick by, whiskers twitching, "Huh. Really? Nothing? Thought that would have at least earned a 'how dare you threaten me in such a way Doom Spawn!'...or something." I mumble to myself and slacken into a slouch.

I was alone and laughably vulnerable. I needed a plan and needed to think of one quick. Who knew what kind of crap this Man Snipper would try and pull the longer we were here. Lost in a whirlwind of scheming, I didn't notice the disturbance in the mist until the brawny silhouette was almost on top of me. My head snaps up at the same instant a jovial hail is thrown down, "yo, Boss, glad to see your still in one piece. Felt like I've been walking in circles in this damn magical fart, happy I finally found someone."

Relief sweeps through me at seeing Bull. One was now accounted for and with him with me, chances of finding of the others soared astronomically. A giant smile surfaces and I lope to meet him partway. I observed he'd lost not only Dorian but our gear as well however such things weren't important right now. Getting down on a knee, he lays his large palm open for me to climb on and I unquestioningly do. Shivers wrack my body as Bull straightens to his full height, the crackle and pop of energy abruptly flaring to near painful levels.

"You good, Boss?" He asks worriedly when I mew miserably and start to go limp in his hold.

I nod dazedly, a trickle of alarm taking root at this new unknown when a chillingly cold voice drifts from the fog. "Release her."

I swerve to look behind, "Solas?" as his lithe figure steps from the gloom. His staff rested within the palm of his right hand while both power stone and fingertips radiated magic at the ready as Solas halts feet from us.

Steely greys never wavering from Iron Bull's face, Solas quietly repeats, "release her."

I glance between the two men. So, so very confused as to what was happening while Bull chuckles and merely offers his usual cocky grin at the lethal predatory intent focused on him. "Come on, Solas, lighten up. Nothing's going to happen to the Boss if someone other than you has her."

"True." His smooth timbre drops an octave with that single word, sending shivers over me for a wholly different reason. "If you were the Iron Bull."

 _Whoa, wait, say what now?_ Fairly sure my eyes were wide as saucers and mouth was gaping like a fish.

Bull, or person pretending to be Bull, flashes a good-natured smile. Not bothered in the least at the glacial demeanor professing a ruthless attack was imminent if pushed. "Funny I should have to say this --have to love the irony, but perhaps you should take a moment to calm down. It's this fog. It's messing with your mind, Solas. Probably targets mages."

"No, I think not." The radiance of his magic burns brighter, casting sparks of electric blue.

Bull -not Bull, sighs then looks to me pleadingly. "You believe me, right? Talk to him. It's this place, we need to find the others and get out of here."

"I want Solas. Give me to Solas." No hesitation, no doubt. I move as if to fling myself to the ground but callused fingers brutally squeeze, effectively blocking my escape and wringing a shocked squeak of pain.

Movement a blur, a fully charged power stone is thrust beneath Bull's chin in warning a second later. The edge of menace in his eyes sharper. " _Halam sahlin._ "

"Ah, ah." Hoisting me higher, practically dangling me in Solas' face as a taunt while I helplessly twisted and kicked at air. "Another misjudgment." Fake Bull says conversationally. "I believed the mirrors perfect, but I suppose they were never made to be used on one such as you. But you," swinging me the tiniest bit as I become the target of his attention, "you can be tested. You trust this one very much, interesting."

No sooner did the observation leave him and a snarl crosses Solas' expression than both men are promptly disappeared. I land with a jarring _oomph_ on unforgiving stone, winded and now more than slightly pissed as I'm abandoned in the mist. A-freakin'-gain.

Picking myself up, "oh, someone's getting poop in their shoe." I vow. "Talking to you." Pointing at nowhere in particular. Sighing dejectedly, I bend to rub petite paws over my face, psyching and bucking myself up for what I needed to do next. Sitting and waiting to be rescued did me no good, it got me Pet Cemetery companions. I had to determine if there was a system to bumping into the others. Solas had done it, maybe he could again or I could do it myself. Either way, I had to move to find out. Pumping a clawed fist resolutely, "adventure!" I lope off in a random direction.

Or attempted too.

It was the epitome of anticlimactic. My 'gallop' was a series of hurried bounces and ridiculousness. A decrepit geriatric would have overtaken me. However I kept driving forward, hopeful for a lucky break and that I wouldn't accidently get trampled on.

"Akira!"

Immediately I falter and whip around to search for that treasured voice. "Solas!"

There were ripples in the mist, disrupting its eerie stillness then there he was. Emerging from the fog with an expression that would forever never allow me to doubt his feelings. "Finally I found you, _vhenan_."

Inexplicably the wealth of assuagement that single endearment conveyed brought the sting of tears to my eyes and I race to run as fast I could to him. Feeling like I had taken a hit to the heart and suddenly needing the warmth of his embrace more than the next breath.

"Akira, no!" A blast of energy slams into Solas, bringing him up short as it activates and shatters his randomized barrier. I skid to a halt at the desperate call and blitz assault, whirling to look back at the direction I had come. Eyes bug and a hiss of air passes my lips at the impossible sight of a second Solas readying another spell and glaring at the first. "Like the Iron Bull, he is a trick. Quickly, _vhenan_ , come to me."

 _Ah, Goddamn it! Fuck you, Thedas. Fuck you. Don't you dare ruin Solas harem for me!_ Wheeling back and forth between the two. Both took relaxed stances as they stared the other down, giving the false impression of being non-combative while cleverly disguising their prepared aggression, and it was damn sexy.

"Focus on the magic, Akira. Feel the currents, the strings of power. Tingling hums drifting across your skin."

"Does it hurt, _vhenan_? I'm sorry, it can be overwhelming for some. Bear with it for now."

I retreat in a hop to put them both in my field of view, incapable of telling real from illusion. Gazes fleetingly skim to me, nervous at the possibility of losing me in the mist once more but unable to permit their concentration to wander from the doppelganger in front of them.

"Be careful, Akira-"

"Hold, Akira. It's danger-"

" _EERR!_ Time-out!" Throwing stubby arms up in a T. "This is hot -like stupid hot, having two Solas' but I know one came out wrong. Can't tell who's who -sorry, sweet cheeks -whichever one you are- however there is one way for me to know." I swallow, hesitant to do the follow-through. Knowing the outcome already yet a fear grew at having it confirmed. I close my eyes and take a deep steadying breath before lifting my chin stubbornly. "Stay. Stay with me, Solas." Blinking away the moisture that wanted to build, working my jaw as I adamantly smothered the unexpected surge of emotions such a request heralded. Hating the crack in my voice, the barely veiled plea. "When Corypheus is killed, leave with me. Walk with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Halam sahlin: (Elven) Loosely; It ends now


	67. Chapter 67

"Stay. Stay with me, Solas. When Corypheus is killed, leave with me. Walk with me." _Be at my side. P_ _lease don't go_.

The anguished eyes it drew... "Why...why ask that of me?" Ripped me apart with their sorrow.

But it was the other...the other Solas that nearly broke me. I'd known the answer, known what it would wrought, and regret consumed me. Intensely disgusted at myself for the selfish choice.

Misery, hope, bitterness, wistfulness; so many emotions that crossed a face that looked as if I had wounded him as nothing else could. As if I had asked the worst possible thing imaginable. Those eyes. Those beautiful, greys of storm that held unfathomable grief slanted away, refusing to meet mine for telling heartbeats before remorseful acceptance washed over his features. _Solas. My Solas._ Bounding to go to him. "I...can't. In another-"

"No." The unshakable vehemence at last dragging his attention. "This one, only this one." Pitifully weak and vulnerable but the strongest I've ever been as I peer up at him. Watching the sadness eat through the acceptance while he struggled for distance.

"I will betray you, use you." I turn at the mournful admittance. Silently regarding a heart-rendering imitation of Solas. Doing a poor job of hardening myself against the forlorn expression while he stood as if defeated. Listening as lovelorn eyes and soft timbre are used to ruin me. "You will be nothing more than a pawn too gullible to know any better. And it will not stop me."

Fabric rustles, coils of fog plume behind me but I never stray from that tormented face. "Do it." Unyielding, far from cowed or destroyed. "I can take it. All of it. Bring it on. No matter how many times I am betrayed, I will never stop trusting you. You think I follow any kind of logic? Ha! I do as I please and I'll stand with you for as long as you'll have me." I shift, gazing behind at a stunned Solas. "This is my vow, my promise. This is me."  

A pensive hum issues from Mirror Solas, raising the hairs on my neck. "...I see. So this is your faith in this man." Spurring Solas to swiftly scoop me up though he had made no move towards me. Cradled against Solas' breast, I see the flare of power aimed at his copy and Imitation's unflustered examination of the both of us before he -it, continues, " Some would scoff and condemn your belief, yet you proclaim it proudly. Even presented with fantasy, it is impressive and indomitable. Does he share your thoughts I wonder?"

Eyes narrowing, Solas loosens his posture although he maintained his spell, a hint of ire coloring his response. "Each of us lives dependent and bound by our individual knowledge and awareness. Building what we call reality. Both are ambivalent, one's reality might be another's fantasy."

Sly smile surfacing, "not an answer." he says at the same time I roll my eyes with a thought of, _none answer_. He pivots, giving us his profile with that smug smile still in place, like he had discovered some great secret. "Nonetheless, you were judged irrelevant, it matters not what you hold. Merely the female." With that he turns his back and is simply gone, vanishing without a trace.

Tiny claws dig in to Solas' robe, anticipating another round of crappy insta-porting but astonishingly nothing happens. I remained where I was, tenderly clasped to Solas' chest. His thumb petting in soothing circles while silently he stood staring off in the distance, utterly lost in reflection. Gravely, somber eyes slowly shift to me when I glance up, troubled and probing as they searched my face. "Why was that your choice?"

"You told me once my eyes were telling. Did you realize yours are as well?" _Unfair_. It was all unfair and material fists in my paws as the ache bleeds out, denying to be smothered so simply. "Did you think I couldn't see the longing -the sorrow, when you thought I wasn't looking? Solas...I'm always looking at you." I admit quietly. 

The light caress of his finger had stopped and an arctic coldness steeled over Solas' features, shuttering out his emotions. "Ah, you gambled on a deduction." He calmly states. "It was a means to an end." Cool composure lay in every line of his face, but the burning fire of anger couldn't be doused from his gaze. He was hurt, and he didn't wish to be.

I released my grip on him, winding my leg back for a punch. "Don't put words in my mouth! I might've guessed on your answer, but I didn't use you." _Aw shit, actually I kinda did..._

It was so quick. One moment the aloof strategist, the next, the tormented lover. So quickly a few words of reassurance that I wanted him pulverized that impassive mask. "Akira...I-"

"Solas, its all right." My heart felt bruised and battered. I knew what he wished to say, his pain was as clear as my own. "I'm not asking anything of you. Like this..." I rested my forehead against his chest, not wanting to see it anymore. Not wanting to believe, to see his refusal. "For just a little while longer...stay with me like this."

Mutely we stayed; for how long I did not know. But for a too brief moment, understanding bloomed and time ceased. Pressed to Solas' heart, lulled by its steady drum, the woes of a world caged by greed became forgotten. And here, within the tranquility of the mist, a tightly locked wish shoved its way to the surface.

A dream of the impossible. Of a future.


	68. Chapter 68

"The way is clear." Quiet, bereft. His gentle voice tearing away the last vestiges of hope for change. The die was cast, my course set. And I could only lament the battle that was to come.

"Maybe we will be able to find the others now." Crestfallen, responding without thought. Not particularly caring that the fog was gradually thinning and the chamber's entrance was emerging.

There would be no walking away, no life wandering the Fade. Solas had chosen his path, and in so doing, chosen mine. Stubbornly chasing or proudly marching alongside, for there existed naught else. I wouldn't abandon him nor would I harm him to save a world. So how long before my hand was forced? How long before Solas tried to walk away forever?

I turn my head to watch the mist sluggishly dissipating around us, rubbing my cheek against Solas' heart. Mourning the loss of blissful ignorance as I brace myself for the fight he was sure to put up. Sighing dejectedly at the realization I would soon become what I mocked and viewed with disdain.

A stupid, goddamn special snowflake.

Funny that the mere thought of accepting my role filled me with the desire to roll my eyes and sarcastically gag.

Regardless if Solas was dissuaded from his current plan or persists in the Veil's removal, he was going to be targeted. The wealth of knowledge he carried, his past actions; whether for vengeance or power, he would be pursued. Solas needed an equal -if not superior, beside him. Not a potential weakness to be exploited.

 _Never that._ Ruthless determination. 

 _But I will let him be mine? It won't matter, nothing will change. Even gods fall. I'll be killed alongside Solas if I stay. I'll suffer the same fate as all the others before me._ The bleak whispers drifting unbidden in my mind, a stark reminder of the consequences of my choice.

 _Run...tell him to remove the anchor and run...this isn't my fight. Never mine._ I swallow against the anxiety and fear, feeling shame at the cowardice as my chin tilts to meet somber eyes. Hating the sense of being cornered, the hopelessness. Hating that I was unable to completely crush the lingering doubt in my ability to survive and thrive despite the odds.

The Inquisitor; what role they played, their fate, it was a mystery while those like me were seemingly used as harbingers to drive history before being pitilessly dispatched. Would it be my desires that brought the eventual hunt, or the completion of my preconceived task? By choosing Solas, I would ensure it. How could I war against a world while opposing the unknown and still remain standing?

Studying the man tenderly holding me, tracing those features etched in grim acceptance, I didn't have an answer. _I'll try. For you, I'll try._ Praying that it might be enough as my mind made the excuse of the anchor's continued presence as making my worries moot anyway. Pretending it somehow took the choice from my hands.

"You weren't murdered by our host I see." I start at the sudden intrusion as Solas pivots to face the voice. Bringing teammates converging from farther within the mist into my line of vision. 

Looking surprisingly spry and halting just shy of the rest, "oy, hold on." Sera cuts in with a drawing of her bow and aiming straight for Solas' brow. "How we know it's them? Could be another fake. Say some elfy nonsense."

The face above me smoothes at her demand. " _Ma elithast emen laiathe_." tone and expression dry.

"Sera, you realize no one really knows what he's saying right?" I add. Bull and Dorian usually only caught a tiny portion of Solas' comments, so asking for a string of Elven to be our proof was absolutely terrible.

"Touché." Blackwall quips from his perch draped atop her head to which she blows a breath at him.

Drooping tiredly on Bull's shoulder, "as I stated already, Sera...they're not illusions."

"So you think! What about your 'the fog distorts, oh~ my mage tickles...' blah blah blah." she mocks before squinting at me suspiciously. "If you're Inky, tells us what's so special about Elf Breeches." Tossing her chin at Solas.

Without hesitation and a raise of my fist for emphasis, "he has the most bounteous thighs in all the land!" I theatrically decree.

A long-suffering sigh ruffles my fur.

"Yup, we're good."

"No question."

"It's them." Relaxing her stance and shouldering her bow.

"And you doubted my spectacular skills. _Tsk_ , for shame."

"If that is settled..." Handling the foolishness with infinite patience. "As we've been allowed to find one another, it stands to reason our test has reached its end." Trying to rein everyone in and get us on point in an obvious bid to keep them from dwelling on my response.

"Correct, _Somniar Virelan_." In a flash weapons are readied. Training on the entity that once again wore the image of a blonde priest. Seemingly out of thin air he appeared to calmly stand before us. Regarding our group with polite interest and not like he'd just been attempting to mind fuck us minutes ago. "It was curious worthy personages ceded Favor to save the lost. An evaluation to determine the truth of your bond was needed." A subtle changing of his visage while he spoke. So quickly, it gave the impression of seeing things. "The faith in those beside is rare indeed. Deserving of respect."

"Well, that just makes everything dandy then." Dorian sarcastically mutters.

With help, I climb my way to Solas' collar to free both hands, not about to trust this dingle trimmer. "I don't think we want your version of respect."

"Uh huh, yeah right, jackhole. Stuff it.  Just move or get crammed." Pulling her string impossibly further. "And it won't be with ferret." Causing me to groan.

The crashing clank of metal being dropped resounds as Bull rolls his shoulders and angles his body for a fight, purposely leading with his off-hand to shield Dorian. "Been itching to return your hospitality, Specter Princess. They claim death is an art form. I say to them...well, I don't say anything to them. Because I kill them."

"Unnecessary." Mirror Man tactfully states. Not so much as a crack in that solicitous facade at the prepared hostility directed at him. "Merit has been demonstrated and proven. Favor is yours travelers." Regally inclining his head to the heart of the chamber that was now visible and the residual mist balling together. Clumping and tightening as if it was slowly solidifying before something abruptly falls from its center with a metallic clink. None relax or utter a word at the reward, wary of another potential trap or problem to arise as our host merely bows his golden head with a last, "May you prove deserving of _Valos Atredum_." before vanishing without a trace.

No sooner did he disappear and glances were being shared when an audible _pop!_ and _poof!_ comes. Generating pandemonium as thick plumes of pink smoke are suddenly billowing and three very naked people are left draped over unsuspecting comrades.  

"Shi-! Maker's bull-"

"AHH! Bumping! It's bumping!"

Legs instinctively hook around his chest while arms happily wrap themselves around his neck as I laugh against Solas' throat. Too busy striving to breathe to be embarrassed as Solas instantly reaches behind to pin my weight and spins to use his body as a screen. Doing my best not to slip at the horrified clamor nearly drowning out Bull and Dorian.

"Were you always this heavy?"

"I don't want to hear that from you! And will you stop twisting! Everyone doesn't need the sight of my derriere swinging!"

~

_knock....knock..._

The soft thump of my boots tapping together while I reclined with ankles crossed beat a steady rhythm in the early morning gloom of the canyon floor. A barely perceptible noise I took no notice in lost to my thoughts as I was.

.... _knock..._

Fingers threaded behind my skull, I observe the lightening darkness, not concentrating and as vigilant as I should be for first guard. The others would be settling in or sleeping by now, getting much needed respite after the night we've had. Being the most rested and too wired, I had claimed first watch. Hoping to work through the inner turmoil ravaging my mind and even delay the inevitable confrontation awaiting for me. And confrontation it would be, I had no illusions on that.

A struggle was being waged inside Solas and it showed in his demeanor. The emotional burdens he placed upon himself were taking their toll, as though they bombarded him. The quiet air of remorse and shored stoicism that clung to him during our weary trudge back to camp had been telling. He was seeking to distance himself from personal feelings and wishes. Not once did words of love or _vhenan_ pass his lips and I believed he but waited to pull a hurtful trigger.

Mouth pursing and puffing a stressed breath, I debate how best to handle him, wondering what was the right move here.

 _Dropped way too much on him, woman, shoulda picked something else._ Leaning backwards in disbelief at myself for the poor decision. _That boy's not nearly ready for the shit storm you want to lay on him._ Staring up at the fading stars, my mouth takes on an irked pinch the longer I considered. _Jerk wouldn't even offer a non-answer. It wasn't like I asked for us to remain with the Inquisition or anything, just for me to be able to tag along. Could've at least pretended it was an option, you giant turd!_ The ire rising the more I stewed with nothing to do but glare at sand and more sand.

Perhaps my awareness wasn't as divided as I thought, or perhaps he made a noise to alert me of his approach, but my attention inexplicably shifts to the tomb's entrance and the athletic figure despondently sauntering to join me.

 _So it comes now, he couldn't let it go..._ Keeping my expression clear as I lower my arms and patiently wait for Solas, stumped and no closer to having formulated a plan.

Choosing to be the one who initiated and to set the tone, "couldn't sleep, sweet cheeks?" Refusing to make this easy for him.

Solas strides to stand beside my boulder, looking uncomfortable and like a kick to the testicles was less painful then whatever he wanted to say. It didn't stop me though, or cause me to take pity on him. Instead before he has a chance to respond, I use the greatest weakness a person long denied affection had.

Moving to be with him, "Solas...what's wrong?" I tenderly ask. Letting my anxiety give credence to the confusion as I reach to caress the furrows marring handsome features, lovingly sliding my fingers down to cradle the side of his face at his silence. Crowding his space, extending no mercy even as the face beneath my palms crumbles in misery. 

Warm hands gently cover mine, hesitating the barest fraction. "I'm...sorry." Seeing the pained swallow, the wretched struggle, as Solas extracts himself and forces his body to retreat a step. To distance himself, to build defenses. "It was my mistake, I knew better. Forgive me. I cannot offer what you desire. You are..." His rationalization tapering off at the unamused expression leveled on him coupled with a very long; very loud, sigh.

So he really was endeavoring to pump the brakes on his feelings. At least I wasn't being given the 'for duty!' excuse I guess, but damn, seriously? One slip, one jumped the gun. One!

"Solas, I said before that I was okay with it." Intentionally chasing and minimizing the distance between us even when he desperately tried to stay away. "I'm not demanding anything you do not wish to give." Going so far as to hook his belt to stop him and taking the opportunity to sidle close.

Failing terribly at appearing unaffected and once again covering my hands, "are you not demanding now?" Not quite achieving the outrage he'd likely hoped to infuse in his voice. 

"Oh, you don't want me anymore. I see." Both eyebrows lifting as if I'd had an epiphany as I slip my hands from his, dropping them entirely. "I didn't realize your affections ran so shallow. My mistake, I apologize."

It had the desired effect as I'd anticipated and possibly then some. "Trivialize if you must," fury at me, at himself, in every line as he leans over me. "But do not prevaricate. It is a disrespect to every moment we shared. Not everything is a jape to be debased and snubbed." Unwavering in his anger, refusing to allow me to escape the intensity of his eyes.

Unflinching, never shying from those tumultuous greys, "then do not make it so. You want to stay with me, it's plain as day on your face. I'm not asking for a commitment, not asking for forever, just to be with me while we can. Did you not say once that people should take any moment they can during times like these? We're in a war with a being capable of ripping the Veil like butter, and I'm supposed to be the one who fights him thanks to this-" activating the anchor for emphasis. "Solas...do you honestly believe there's going to be a victor in that battle? That one is going to be able to walk away?" Voicing the hidden fear I had ruthlessly choked down ever since learning the fates of the other real souls. "It was a dream, a hope I had no intention of telling you -knowing it was a future I likely couldn't give."

The 'Inquisitor' was required for Corypheus, not for the Exalted Council or Qunari threat. Anyone could accomplish it, and Fen'Harel didn't necessarily need to reveal his intentions to the world. Solas would know the truth before we dealt with Corypheus and it would be there that our path was chosen. I wasn't going to give him the chance to secretly slip away after Corypheus' defeat, and whether whatever guiding force Thedas had decided to bring the smack down right then or after was uncertain. But I had no delusions that going off script was going to be tolerated. I had to prepare myself for the very real possibility confronting Corypheus wasn't going to be what I assumed, and that his destruction might herald my own regardless of how hard I fought.

The mask was falling away, his anger draining at the grim reality. Leaving him with an expression of a man afraid to wish for more. "The future is uncertain, and you will not be alone in dealing with Corypheus. Nothing is inevitable, however it cannot change my answer. Harden your heart to a cutting edge, and put that pain to good use." So very torn between selfishness and duty. A last ditch attempt to save himself.

Solas was separating himself, building the facade of polite indifference while I watched. As sexy as it was, I couldn't give him any leniency and let him dissociate himself. There was too much at stake. "Got it. Duly noted." I gamely nod then proceed to hook his calf with mine and effectively trip him.

A shocked _ooph!_ emits when he lands and again when I swiftly plop down before looking up with a flare of temper coloring his expression. "Ak-" Cupping his jaw, I silence him with a kiss. The body beneath me tenses and I take advantage of his surprise to sweep my tongue inside for a taste. Branding his lips with mine in an unforgiving assault, demanding he let go. Fingers grasp to hold, not deny, as resistance wavers and a greedy flick is returned. Meeting in a blistering stroke for a moment before Solas seems to catch himself. Grip tightening, he drags my hands away and tears his mouth from mine. Mutely he studies me, searching for I knew not what with an expression unlike any other he'd given me on his flushed face. Rage? Guilt? Sorrow? It was all of them, yet none, and there was naught to do but wait for the chips to fall.

"Why?" A single word, a single question. And yet, with it I knew.

It was fragile hope, a yearning for a future. It was trust, raw and exposed. Vulnerable and oh, so new. And it was my key to breaking him if I wasn't careful.

"I'm listening to you and following your advice. I hardened myself to your no's, and now I'm putting it to good use." Unable to give Solas a true answer, fearing what I'd sacrifice if I did. Looking down at the man I adored, a vise clamped around my heart. Constricting so fiercely it was a miracle I could breathe. Slowly, I lean in, letting Solas choose. Skimming his lips with a feather light caress, giving him one last chance to turn away.

" _vhenan..._ " A breathless sigh of surrender as the rigid tension seeps away. " _vhenan..._ " Rising to seal our lips with a release of my wrists to mold me to hard contours. Love and acceptance in every brush of his mouth, every glide of his tongue. Searing, lingering; asking nothing in return.

Making the lump in my chest all the more painful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Ma elithast emen laiathe: (Elven) Loosely; Your decision/choice is lacking  
> Somniar Virelan: (Dwarven) Dream Walker  
> Valos Atredum: (Dwarven) Ancestor's Favor/Gift


	69. Chapter 69

"solas...solas..."

Cries of desperation echo into the desolate wasteland, pleading for someone who would never come. "...s-solas..." Whimpered sobs of despair drifting from nowhere yet everywhere, seemingly inescapable.    

It was sickening. The suffocating terror, the agony permeating the air. Feeling as though it was bleeding into your skin; tainting, warping. Feeling wrong, so very wrong. It wasn't supposed to be this way. The Fade wasn't supposed to be this way.

Emerald waterfalls of crystal clear beauty, islands floating within a lonely world; a realm outwardly unchanged yet it had become scarred.

I stood besieged, drowning in the unexpected turmoil. Unprepared for the overwhelming emotional blitz. Minutes ago --hours, I reluctantly left a slightly rumpled Solas by himself. Wanting to stay and finish what I'd started but wary of pushing too much after his tentative concession. The expression of disappoint in himself when he believed I couldn't see as I walked away told me it had been a wise decision. Needing someone to talk to but not wishing to disturb friends who greatly needed the rest, I had fallen asleep to wander the Fade. Never anticipating this is what would be waiting.

A muscled forearm slips across my clavicles to hold me from behind. The presence trusted and familiar as warmth spears my chest, becoming a shield to chase away the suffering. It was like a painful web unraveling, allowing me to breathe freely once more. "Better, _da'elgara_?" Voice soft, compassionate.

" _Yes, thank you_." Raising my hand to gently pat his bicep in gratitude and relaxing into the embrace. " _What is this, Larry?_ " Appalled at having that moment of weakness immortalized.

"A reaction to your physical manifestation. The Fade is distraught, magic wishes to serve but has no place to go." Larry bows his head to meet my gaze, locks of liquid mercury tickling my skin as uneasy thoughts developed. Eyes of devastating green darken, clouding with sadness at the answer to my worry. "Some have been corrupted, there was not enough _them_ to remember. It is not your fault, _da'elgara_." Laying his cheek against my hair, offering comfort to the person who did not deserve it.

_It was. It was one hundred percent mine. What had I done?_

The grip on my shoulder tightens, hugging me harder. "You did not know. It is not your fault." He kindly repeats.

Fingers clench, digging into flesh that was as real as mine, the guilt like a living thing. " _Is there a way to make it disperse, go away? Something?_ "

"Soft, broken...A beloved's entreaties. The wolf heard your cries, he did not realize they were lesions left behind. Warnings and wards planted to keep others at bay. However yours is a light that is not easily hidden, _da'elgara_. I have helped the best I can but an impression is less important than the source. I'm sorry." The last barely more than a whisper, as though he had done wrong and committed a sin to be ashamed of in not having enough power to do more. 

 _He heard...Solas heard and he came._ Experiencing a horrible twist in the pit of my stomach. Nauseated by the news instead of elated as I would have assumed. I hadn't wanted him to know or add to his regrets. No wonder he had been so upset when I awoke. Not only forced to witness the possible death of a lover but their tortured pleas as well...Everything was just piling one atop another for him. _And he knows you led to the corruption of innocent Spirits_...Now more disturbed by the fact he was aware of my involvement then the actual deed.

" _How do I stop it? Larry, how do I stop it?_ " The horrible twist becoming a vicious stab, _how can Solas look at me after what I've done? How does he stand to touch me? Disgusted. He must be so disgusted._

The hand on my shoulder spins me to face him so fast the other had to grip me to steady stumbling feet. Features of Adonis-like perfection stare down at me, pinning me with their rigid severity, utterly unyielding as fingers clasp me in an unshakable hold. "Never, never that, _da'elgara_. You will ever always be beautiful. If the wolf believes otherwise, he will be made to understand the true feeling of dread."

I couldn't help it, it pulls a consoled chuckle. Larry's dead serious expression and the clever phrasing of his threat did much to allay the mounting misgiving generated by runaway fears. Soothed somewhat, I rest my forehead against his sternum. Quietly resuming my chuckling at a familiar discovery, I poke his chest without lifting my head, " _Clothes, Larry. Clothes._ " A grin forming at the subtle shifting of air as trousers and boots similar to mine appear. I press close, hugging Larry in thanks. Not for doing as I asked but for being a safe-harbor in a world of darkness.

Strong arms envelop me, tenderly petting my hair in understanding, always understanding. The sole person who likely knew me better than myself, who saw every self-serving thought and goal yet still chose to stay beside me. My single true ally despite the future road I walked. An old pain comes but it was nothing new, I have always known Solas would never be so. The Fade, his people, a world of magic; these would win out over all else. I'd known from the start yet it was painful regardless, I wanted him to be that person for me, not another.

"There is no blame in his heart. He recognizes it was unintentionally done, that you merely tried to survive. He finds no fault with you. Rest easy, _da'elgara_." Alleviating concerns, giving me reassurance while never pausing the light stroke of my hair. Deserving of so much more than a lifetime of sorrow and hiding within a realm for the dead.

I tilt my chin back, needing to fix my mistake. _"Can I get rid of it?"_ Knowing whatever the outcome, Larry would be honest.

A brief hesitation, a spark of uncertainty flaring in emerald eyes, then a defeated, somber nod. "Come, _da'elgara_." Retreating a step to hold my hand before turning away as though we were going for a stroll. However in a flash the little island path we were standing on alters and suddenly we were within a rocky ravine, the same ravine the anchor dropped me into previously.

The broken cries echoed louder but the memory of myself that I expect to see struggling upon the ground wasn't here. It was as if that part was masked behind a thick shroud so none could see who those sobs belong. Instead pools of blood lay where I should have been, wet and as fresh as the day I appeared within the Fade. Veins of red and black radiated from the crimson puddles, reaching outwards across the earth. Imparting a sinister impression that the terror and agony choking the air did nothing to ease. Magic and wisps clamored frantically to be near bloody stains, making it feel as though my sinuses were severely congested and I had a terrible case of the flu all at once. Crimson lights flicker, blazing high above, lingering suspend.  Like brilliant fireflies wisps became changed upon reaching my blood before gradually dying in an endless cycle of destruction to be repeated over and over again.

It was beautiful.

It was horrific.

"You must burn the traces of your passage so there can be no foothold. However when its gone, the magic gathering here will become chaotic. It was drawn to save and will lose its purpose." Lips pinch and the hesitation returns to his face as Larry studies the scene of blood and corruption before looking down at me, seemingly decided but not sure if he was pleased about the choice. "I will need to remove the cloaks shielding your light, _da'elgara_. Allowing it, but also any within the Fade to see you. I do not wish to do this."

" _Is that the only way to get this done?_ "

"...Yes." The response sounding like it was dragged from him and not at all happy about what was coming next.

Inhaling deeply and blowing it out to ready myself, "t _hen let's do this. Just have to pew pew it right?"_ Leaving Larry behind and moving determinedly for the gory pool.

Branches of red and black crawl and creep at my passing, aware of my existence but unable to get a lock on it. Tiptoeing and doing my best to avoid the inching nerves, I crouch over the bloody mess, hovering my palm just shy of making contact. Energy eagerly threads and flocks at the summons, casting my hand in shades of indigo and sage. Blood begins to boil then sizzle as heat builds. Filling the air with the tang of iron as blood starts to slowly evaporate with a hiss. Then there it was. The reason why I had to be the one to do this.

The physical proof of my entry may dissolve but there was something underneath, something that lurked, invisible but there nonetheless. Dark, twisted, tormented. I close my eyes, believing I knew what I needed to do. It felt so much like purifying Wisdom as I willed my spirit to the surface, funneling my heart into the devastation I'd caused. Blinding light engulfs my hand, piercing the lids of my eyes as a colorless radiance replaces the indigo, so pure glints of color reflected in a dazzling kaleidoscope. Swallowing the loneliness of the ravine in a flood of resplendent light.

A sensation of fingertips faintly grazing inside me, of skimming over what made me, me comes. I don't flinch or fight against it, realizing it was the protective shrouds hiding my soul being stripped away. Impossibly, when the last falls, the lustrous glow flames brighter. Growing inconceivably larger to encompass further than just this tiny, forlorn gulch. Eyes water against the glare penetrating tightly squeezed lids, helpless to do anything other than turn my face as tears slide down my cheeks.  

Agony, terror, despair; I chase them. Feeling those and much more beneath me, around me. I could clean it, I could wipe it all away. I know I can. A tug, a gentle jerk at the back of my psyche like the pull of a drawstring tries to tow me back but I fight it.

 _More, there is so much more to do_. Extending farther, pressing my will to the forefront. A fierce yank, insistent this time, harder to ignore. _No, no! I can do this! They're there!_ Attempting to spread my light to the darkness, straining against the force determined to bring me back. With a final, savage wrench, my spirit is abruptly reverted. A shocked, gargled gasp rips from my lips, the single sound in a sea of silence before I'm suddenly hauled from the Fade with the same cold ruthlessness.

If I had been given time to witness the result of what I'd done, if I had been a bystander happening upon that bleak island...I would have seen and I would have feared.

A dome of the purest splendor shinning like a brazen beacon, its light immense enough to be observed for miles before vanishing in a flash. Leaving the world in desolate gloom once more. Leaving something not  beheld in countless millennia within a narrow ravine.

Leaving fragile life.

~

I snap to complete wakefulness, disoriented and confused at being shoved back into my body. Blinking dumbly at the concerned figure hunched over me.

"Solas? Wha-...what's going on?" The total, full body numbness that held me preventing a clasp of the palms that lovingly cradled my face.

Some of the harshness of his expression eases, the alarmed crease smoothing somewhat as troubled eyes study me. "I felt the removal of my wards. Are you all right?"

"A spirit I befriended did it for me." Responding automatically, mind still sluggish on the uptake. 

Features relax further at the news though the bothered worry did not disappear entirely, "Ah, the one who has taken to concealing your presence I presume. Why seek such a favor? They are intended for your protection."

"Wait, you know about Larry?" Earning an odd expression at the name but pressing on anyway, "But you never said anything." There went my idea to introduce them both in some grand dramatic fashion.

His eyebrow quirks with an _are you kidding? of course_ look, "I had no cause to question their aid. They appear quite attached and without malicious intent. As you made no mention, I assumed knowledge of the friendship was unwelcome. The wards." He insists, not about to let it go so simply.

Cognitive function back online and now able to grasp the state my body was in, I don't side-step or divert the question. Far too panicked at the leaden feel of my arms and utter lack of sensation in my legs to skirt the issue of my crime. _You did it wrong, Larry!_ Praying Solas would know how to help. "I wanted to fix what I'd done." Not needing to elaborate. The mix of pride, understanding, anxiety for my safety; his stressed sigh, it said it all.

"...I see." Was the only thing he said for long moments while he moves to idly stroke my hair. Making me believe Solas was content to end it there and comb short locks before he tenderly continues, "It was a noble gesture _vhenan_ , but one that should not be repeated. The suffering of a world is more than one small woman can endure alone." About to pivot away with a last lingering brush of his knuckles across my cheek before I halt him.

"Solas." Turning him back with an indulgent hum. "I-" swallowing and licking my bottom lip. "I can't feel my legs."

~

Holy. Nutsack.

Talk about keeping a lid on your temper. Solas had been absolutely livid, still was. I thought for certain he was going to combust on the spot. Instead he'd wordlessly shut his mouth and clenched him jaw so hard the muscle had fluttered. Then after what felt like an eternity of having a silent, pissed off elf doing what appeared to be mental exercises to rein in the anger, he'd very quietly; very calmly, explained everything was going to be okay.

It was fucking scary.

The weirdly composed features, the businesslike cool delivery while all along the simmering fury was there right below the surface...yikes. Super sexy, but yikes.

At least the condition wasn't permanent. Though it had been an extremely near thing; that or death if I hadn't been forced to relent. Who knew thrusting you soul outside yourself then fanning it out like a virus being dispersed was a horrendously stupid plan?

Turns out it had been nothing like purifying Wisdom. Where corruption was drawn in and cleansed, I had unintentionally basically spread the love. Stretching and diffusing my soul to the Fade and almost accomplished becoming a part of it. Bye bye 'me' forever without the possibility to ever returning or reforming. Whoops!

Thankfully Solas had reeled me in before that happened but wow was it a close call. It was no wonder he was still furious even after four days. He'd nearly been left with an empty husk and wouldn't have known the cause until it was much too late to do anything but mourn.

The morning --well early evening, of my giant mishap, manner clipped and sentences downright terse, Solas had divulged my circumstance to the others. Taking extra care in ensuring Sera recognized I did not, 'come back wrong' as she eloquently put it and I didn't end up with an arrow to the face which I greatly appreciated.

On the plus side, my capability to conjure and wield magic wasn't affected. In fact for a short time afterwards, it felt incredibly...malleable. Or it did until Solas restored the wards. And the only reason I even knew they'd been cast was because he'd told me himself then declared I was forbidden to touch them. No problem. I didn't plan on having a third field trip to the Fade or bequeathing pieces of myself.

What did blow major chunks was Solas' temporary ban on Fade visits until the heat generated by my brief display died down and my inability to do anything without the support of someone. I got enough sensation back in my arms and torso that with sheer stubbornness and lack of dignity, I could eventually do little things for myself by the first day. Unfortunately the same could not be said of the rest of me. Four days. Four goddamn, embarrassing as hell days and finally -finally!, I was managing the equivalent of a drunken bumbling. My legs might as well be made of wobbly gelatin but I'll take it!

And it would be none too soon by the looks of it.

I may have been out of commission physically and a high liability; but with supplies at a bare minimum since we'd spared as much as we feasibly could to the freed slaves, the luxury of remaining in one location wasn't an option. I was bundled up and at the first opportunity, we set out. Following the stars and using what sparse identifiers we spied, we headed our way across wide open desert to the last known Venatori campsite.

Riding tirelessly each night for a colossal mountain range that drew ever closer by the day. Nudging weary horses straight for a steep mountain path that snaked its way to the top. Intending to climb and conquer a mountain that apparently rained dead Venatori.                     


	70. Chapter 70

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY!

"Could always scale it and take them by surprise." Scratching his chin while he considered the near sheer cliff above.

Laying a forearm across the saddle horn and propping my chin on the other, my snort joins Dorian's at Bull's suggestion. "Ha! Funny."

After four nights of traversing open desert, we finally sighted the telltale flicker of torches far on the horizon. However the tricky part hadn't been in the locating of the Venatori, it was figuring out how to reach them without getting shot to hell.

The chiseled archways of a Dwarven structure was mere meters from our position at the peak's base but by all outward appearances, no effort had been made to clear the massive rockslide from its entrance. Instead, the Venatori had situated themselves and their captives on the mountain's summit. Choosing to reach the tomb by backdoor means. It hadn't been surprising but it was unwelcome nonetheless. Now we were stuck down here formulating schemes on how to ride up a mountain path without alerting everyone and their grandmother that suspiciously well armed individuals were headed straight for them.

"Aw it's alright, Boss, I can carry you easily. Be up there before you know it."

"Fuck no! That's how you -as Sera likes to say- 'end up with your bits out'. This-" waving at all of myself, "stays contained and not splattered all over the place."

"Well, with the sand and depending on where you fall from..." Blackwall muses then coughs innocently at my dirty look leveled on him.

"Why not just go in tits forward, been simp- _phhbt!_ " Spitting and hopping off to the side as a cascade of sand showers from overhead. A banging crash draws interest upwards at the same instant a dark lump plummets and lands beside my mount with the clanking thud of deadweight.

"SHI-!" Frantically grasping at reins to halt the panicked animal from rearing. "Easy, Bucket...easy..." Barely having time to wrest control before a second body heavily thumps feet from the first.

"Heh. Look, Dorian, it's rainin' men." Getting an eye roll and sigh for her wisecrack as everyone puts some space from the mountain's base and stares towards the summit. Waiting to see if more would come flying down from the top.

"Looks like we're not the only ones after the Venatori out here."

"If attention is divided elsewhere, this may be the opportunity we need."

"So what, we charge in with the hope it's an attack and not someone's poorly timed coup?" He airily challenges, though he swiftly saddled up along with the rest of the team. "And what if it _is_ an attack, hmm? I doubt we'll be greeted with smiles and a handshake, Solas."

"Two enemies or one will make little difference if the reason for our being here is murdered in the melee, Dorian." He calmly counters. A cold reminder to the others of the potential result of our failure to act.

Mutely horses are wheeled around and prodded forward, the decision seemingly resolved and unanimous. Hooves dig and sink into giving earth as we wind our way upwards, pushing our mounts to race as quickly as the grainy path would allow. Determined to reach the fray before anyone could successfully rally to combat us or use the slaves as possible meat shields. Hearing the beginning clamor of screams and chaos the higher we climbed, the treed desperation of war growing louder and louder.

Utter. Fucking. Pandemonium when our steeds plow that last steep bend and the sight of what was happening to produce such intense sounds of struggle is spotted. Mages, templars, zealots, prisoners; it was a complete free-for-all. Men and women in threadbare rags, in near full chainmail though it was late into the night; all fought with the gritty ferociousness of a cornered animal. Rocks, fists, logs little more than twigs; anything and everything that could be utilized as a weapon was. Beating and clubbing with unmatched brutality against steel and magic alike in an attempt to survive. Coating the air with a layer of feral desperation.

Whether the prisoners had somehow managed to free themselves or been purposely freed was a moot riddle at this point but one in which that was answered a moment later regardless.

From the shadows skillfully aimed arrows stagger Venatori mid charge, felling and swerving foes with expert precision as arrows lodge in exposed throats and joints. Toppling soldiers who would have flanked distracted slaves as four darkly clad figures dart from the cover of night and slice their way into the descending ranks. The glint of iron flashes in the torchlight with every spin of their heel from their breast as they provided seasoned support to the resistance. Giving the prisoners the chance they needed to continue the fight and prevent them from being promptly crushed. However even their added strength wouldn't be enough to win the night as others rouse from slumber and pour from farther within the camp.

Captives wrestle and fall against the tide, striving to push and endure as we ride into the thick of the turmoil. Energy crackles in a deadly bolt, whizzing over the sand to rent a woman's thigh. Dropping her to a knee with a pained shriek while the stick she carried is brought up in a vain effort to block the cutting bite of steel. Hooves strike unprotected flesh as I barrel through the mayhem and bring my mount to rear, the sharp slice of metal shoes and unrestrained power of densely muscled forelegs easily punching through bone as the attacker's skull is pummeled.

I jump from the animal, more afraid of it being harmed in the skirmish than myself. "Hold this." Blindly tossing my reins at the dazed woman without looking as I lurch my way into the path of rushing Venatori. Limbs feeling as if they were made of jelly or not, I could more than put up a fight -well better than stick wielding farmers anyway.

Shrugging the cloak from my shoulders until it hung from my right wrist, experiencing the piercing sting of cold on adrenaline heated skin, I chuck it at the first Zealot who nears. Not nearly hard enough to reach the man but it was enough to divert attention for the split second I needed while he swatted it away. Magic gathers in my palm, shoving outwards as I lunge and thrust it into the man's diaphragm. Launching him backwards ass-over-end while a second soldier pivoted into a side swipe to cleave through my ribs. Spread wide from the lunge and not about to recover from that so quickly, I bend the remainder of the way to dodge. Using the momentum and my already outstretched arm as a fulcrum, I throw my leg up and over for an enhanced kick. Luckily driving the strike into his hip and flinging him to the side as I awkwardly land on all fours. Fairly certain that to anyone watching I had looked like a drunkard trying to perform a terribly executed cartwheel. Ungainly and messy as hell but it got the job done.

Weak and body slow to react, I bear crawl forward as I work to stand, intending to conjure a cyclone and bowl through these ass-clowns when I'm tackled from behind and taken to the ground. The bitter taste of iron and gritty earth fills my mouth as I'm slammed on my face and wraith thin limbs hook around my torso and neck before abruptly rolling me over to stare up at a majestically starry sky. Squeezing with an astonishing amount of strength as intense pressure built and I struggled for breath. I claw their wrist while attempting to wedge my chin downwards as I reach behind with the other and clutch tattered fabric. Fully planning to shoot my terrified assailant point-blank in the kidney and damn the horrified response of my teammates. I wasn't willing to die a senseless death here in the dirt.

"I got you Boss." Appearing seemingly out of nowhere to circle us and crouch at our heads to utter the oddest apology. "Sorry kid." A strange gurgle suddenly sounds in my ear and the pressure just disappears, the body that had wrapped itself around me so tightly having gone lax in an instant. Starved lungs gratefully inflate as harsh coughs rattle my chest and Bull's callused hand helps to haul me to wavering feet. Through the fit I turn to glimpse my idiotic attacker laying unconscious on the ground, noticing the bruises and grime that covered a face barely old enough to know their first shave as I valiantly fought the urge to hold their actions against them and punt the living crap out of them for choking me. "Stupid, but young. Don't take it seriously Boss, probably the first time many of these people have been in a fight. Happens more than you'd think." Likely knowing exactly where my thoughts we going as he good-naturedly pats me on the back before holstering his heavy axe and bending to hoist the youth across his shoulder.

Turning my head to spit blood and grit while rubbing my sore and abused throat, "still wanna punch the little prick...." I grumble irritably as I scan over the camp. Shocked and surprised to find that the skirmish was already basically finished beside a few stragglers who either hadn't fled upon our miraculous emergence or were being beaten into surrendering. It had seemed as though there had been so many enemies when we initially ran in but perhaps it only seemed that way in the heat of the moment. Or perhaps my mind hadn't inflated the numbers and the Venatori had simply decided that the addition of six professionally armed individuals tipped the scales too far in the prisoners favor to risk it. Either way I was suddenly left standing in the midst of an eerily desolate camp littered with bodies and blood, surrounded by both the living and the dead as eyes ranging from fearfully suspicious to hopeful lock on my small group. The four rogue Scouts who had rushed into the fray warily but calmly sidle to position themselves between us and the anxious captives still capable of standing while two archers saunter from the protective shroud of the night. Without breaking stride, one draws and releases an arrow to fell a crippled Spellbinder Blackwall stalked before slinging his bow over his shoulder and joining their squad in shielding the freed slaves. All six studied my team, their eyes roving over each of us quizzically while stances appeared at the ready for any hint of conflict but unthreatening at the same time. The second archer sets himself slightly forward, his flawless features and ebony skin a striking combination as eyes an exotic shade of blue or possibly even violet -it was difficult to discern from this distance, travel between each of us before fixing on me when I'm defensively flanked by my companions. Branding me as the leader of what probably looked like the strangest ragtag band to ever wander Thedas. 

"Not Venatori, not bandits." He silkily asserts, the smooth and seductive lilt of his accent marking him of Antivan origins and heightening his intrigue tenfold. "Mercenaries perchance? However it begs the question of whom you are employed and for what purpose. A titillating mystery indeed but if you are not in league with the Venatori and have no business with these broken souls, then yours is a presence we can let pass. We are agents of the Inquisition and have no desire to shed more blood this night so long as you agree to peaceably depart."

A smile bloomed larger and larger the more he spoke, getting an extreme kick out of the irony. _Son, we'd slap ya'll down so fast it wouldn't be funny._ So very proud of myself for keeping it together and not manically cackling.

"How magnanimous of you guys! Good thing we just so happen to be with the Inquisition too and have business here by way of Scout Harding. Should know of her; short, thinks a certain mustached mage is cute and probably wants a peek under those flashy robes,-" ignoring the groaned sigh next to my left, "conducts herself like a lady but you know it hides a real freak in the shee-"

Loudly chiming over me to cut off the rant, "we're the personal guard of the Inquisitor. Th-"

"Aw, it was gettin' good. I wanted to hear that."

"You shush." Paying no mind to the tongue sticking out at him, Dorian presses on, "This must be your fated day, lucky you is meeting your fabled leader in the flesh." Tipping his head in acknowledgement in my direction.

Except for one of two female rogues who had yet to drag her gaze from Iron Bull for long, skepticism was an easy emotion to read on the scouts as I tried not to look back at Dorian and give him the stink eye for announcing my horrid title. With pouty lips pinched in consideration, the baby faced scout moves forward to whisper in Scout Pretty Boy's ear, though she didn't do a very good job of being secretive as if I could hear it, we all definitely could. "I believe they speak true, Qin. The Inquisitor has been known to keep company with a Qunari as well as numerous mages. M-"

"Ah! Sexy mages." I hastily correct with a raise of my finger. I didn't need to see behind me to know the expressions of my companions were likely those of men praying for deliverance. "It's an important distinction. Carry on."

It was more than skepticism now washing over their faces and even those freed captives who were close enough to listen were looking like they believed they had been rescued by a deranged Elf. Scout Pretty; or Qin, was silent for a moment. Observing me with what could be best described as hopeful doubt otherwise he seriously had to question his life choices for following what just might be the village halfwit. "...It is a simple matter to prove your claim, yes? The Inquisitor shines with an extraordinary light, unique and unparalleled. Such an effortless thing to settle the issue and our minds, do you not agree?"

Bristling tension radiates at my back, the team having no problem with the Scouts desire for caution but not appreciating the tone in which I was being addressed. They remain wordlessly behind me though, a wall of solidarity and loyalty, confident in my ability to handle the situation myself.

Since Scout Qin was asking so nicely and I felt bad about giving my squad a hard time, I put on my best ditsy expression. "Rare light? Wha- _Tsk!_ Ohh! You mean this?" Lifting my left hand high and curling every finger but one as I activate the anchor to flare like a blazing nova in the darkness. "This light, this rare 'specialness'?" waving it at the incredulous gaping faces.

"Lady Herald, our apologies!"

"Forgive my rudeness, your Worship!"

Six figures immediately drop, kneeling submissively while those slaves who had heard the exchange bowed low reverently, believing the stories of a sacred messenger. Utterly killing the tiny joy I had received from trolling the Scout and causing me to regret my choice as murmurs of 'Herald' and 'Andraste's Chosen' drift through the ranks of prisoners. It was evident whom amongst the captives were devout Andrastian's; the complete veneration, the idolized elation shining on their faces as they collapsed onto the sand and raised their arms to me. As if I had been sent here to right a world, to save them. Others knelt more gradually, believers of the Chantry but skeptics of an Elven being the chosen or merely bowing because they thought it was expected of them. Actions and expressions I never desired.

It was sickening and I loathed it with every fiber of my being. To have people look at me in such a way was nothing I ever wanted or sought. I was normal, a mortal. I wasn't anything but a human girl. How desperately I wanted to scream it to this world, to these people. I'm human, I'm just a normal mortal. Don't look to me in such a way, don't plea for my blessing as though I can shelter the damned.

"Enough. Get up, all of you. You shouldn't kneel to someone who isn't any better than you." The words coming out harsher than intended but bothered more than I wished to be concerned about sparing people's feelings.

So many emotions greeted that command as individuals slowly stood. Interest, nervousness, bewilderment; hell, even boredom on some, yet oddly none held disgust. How very rare to gather such a large group and to have none harbor ill will towards a knife ear declaring themselves Inquisitor. It lessened the foulness of my mood considerably, at least now I didn't have to worry about smacking the shit out of someone for insulting Sera or Solas.

Not keen on more apologies or opinions on showing due respect, I get down to what was actually important. "Harding said you were shadowing the Venatori. What happened to change that?" Tossing my chin at the ragged lot they shielded. I mean, I wasn't complaining or anything, they'd just lightened our workload significantly but it sounded as if they hadn't known we were coming. I couldn't imagine they'd risk themselves on a highly possible suicide mission just because they were getting impatient.

Instead of Scout Qin answering, a rather rough appearing middle aged woman jumps in before he can. Marching to stand beside the scouts as she throws her hands in the air angrily, "Tevin'er scum wan'ed ta butcher us! Slaughter us like cat'le cuz we're no good ta 'em anymore!" My brows raise at the shouts and pissed off hisses that accompany her statement, floored and truly fucking surprised that someone was finally fighting for themselves.

"We ain't gonna take it layin' down!"

Scout Qin twists and lifts both palms in a placating gesture as more yells of agreement ring out before turning back to me when they'd settled, "The miners reached whatever it was the Venatori were after so they made the decision that slaves were no longer necessary. They planned to murder them and we believed we had little option but to intervene and give these people a chance to save themselves. I take full responsibility for alerting the enemy of our presence here and breaking orders."

Crossing my arms and nodding my head with respect, " _Ha!_ Crazy bastards went balls to the wall. I like it, right on." At the relaxing of his features I can't help but snort. "What? You think I'd get poopy face for my people thinking for themselves? As long as it's not detrimental to the end goal and they followed you voluntarily-" tipping my head to the other scouts, "then you were in the right. I won't punish someone for making logical decisions in the absence of guiding leadership."

"Well said, _vhenan_." Warmth and pride spoken only loud enough for our group to catch.

"Wait, did Inky just willingly Inquisitor?" Mock shock while keeping her volume level with Solas'.

"Cue the apocalypse." Bull mumbles out of the corner of his mouth.

A beaming smirk and mirth bubble up at their whispered banter but my amusement and smile is short-lived however as the next bit of information leaves Scout Qin's lips. "I'm sorry, your Worship, there is more. We were unable to prevent a small squad from descending to the shafts below. A choice was made between the miners safety or hindering the scouting party."

Like being dunked in a bucket of arctic water, all of the laughter is gone and I can feel the annoyed tick begin under my eye. "...What?"

Oh yeah, he knew that wasn't what I wanted to hear. Scout Qin stood ramrod straight and like a trooper ready for an imminent butt whooping, he resolutely finishes, "an hour after sunset a team took minimal provisions and disembarked for the ruins below. They have yet to emerge and I had no intention of pursuing until the captives were secure, my Lady."

 _Mother. Fucker. Killing me here!_  


	71. Chapter 71

A head start of hours and probably knowing the general direction in which to search, there was no doubt the Venatori held the advantage. It was bound to happen sooner or later -was miraculous even that we'd gone this far and this was the first we had been beaten to the punch. But it didn't change that we needed to be ones with the key fragment when all was said and done. Where I didn't believe a mystical, God-like item of total awesome lay at the end of everything, I did believe Fairel's tomb held something the Venatori could use to make the war with Corypheus more annoying. Nothing in these ruins had suggested the reward for our perseverance in obtaining fragments would yield the same results as the game. In fact, nothing had been similar other than veilfire and the stupid pieces. At this point I would only be astounded if something actually looked like it was supposed to.

Stay with the Scouts who I was on the verge of throttling and miss whatever absurdity was awaiting below? Not fucking likely! After the shenanigans of the last tombs, I wanted to see what insanity Fairel's maddwarf sons had decided to stuff in this one. Rubber legs or not, I'd crawl along the walls if I had too. No way was I sitting out.

Tottering and failing in my attempt to walk a straight line, I 'march' with as must dignity as one could while countless eyes tracked the train wreck that was Thedas' Savior of the Universe. Plotting a course for four crumbling pillars towering in the center of camp, fairly confident the entrance we sought would be there.

I could practically feel the frustrated displeasure emitting from Solas who treaded hot on my heels as we neared the columns. Any momentary improvement of mood squashed at my stubborn insistence to tag along as he ensured I didn't topple on my face while staunchly refusing to aid my foolhardiness. If I desired to endanger myself so badly, I was free to do so, however he would take no part in it. Poor man may say that, but he was kinda contradictory by continuing to explore the tomb with us. Wasn't going to mention that though, might end up without a Solas body pillow later today otherwise.

Tents of vermilion and gold open to a cleared perimeter circling the pillars, allowing for a better view of the shaft's entrance. Bricks of large stone, planks of freshly placed wood then the dark emptiness of a sheer plummet...I see the bane of my existence looming and I'm suddenly not as enthusiastic to find what was at the bottom. Why I had expected access to the crypt to be anything different was anyone's guess and I make no attempt at a courageous, competent facade as my gait lowers exponentially into a duck, a crouch, then clumsy crab walk the closer to the wooden ramp we get.

"Still resolved to continue this hotheaded endeavor?" Crossing his arms with an expression utterly devoid of pity while he calmly observed my slow hand-walk to peek over the ledge. Chuckles and good-natured head shakes pass me as the others fearlessly stroll for the ladder below, well accustomed to the sight of their dauntless leader crawling over or along things when it came to heights.

"I have no idea what you mean. It's not bad." I blithely state.

It was fucking terrible. The ladder disappeared into the gloom with solely the faint glow of torches and even dimmer shades of red far below to signify the bottom -or what I hoped was a bottom. One slip, and it was certain death with just sufficient free-fall time to realize your screwed before _splat!_

An eyebrow mutely quirks, his face saying he wasn't the least fooled and more than patient enough to sit back and watch the guaranteed floundering. I begin a trembling inch down the middle of the ramp while Bull, Dorian, and Sera descend into the deep; scared and anxious as to how well my strength would hold up.

Instead of following right behind Sera, Blackwall only partially lowers onto the wooden rungs and looks to me with a kind grin. "They'll leave us behind if we're not quick. Would you like me to step with you, Inquisitor?" Extending a gloved hand to me in offering.  

"What waits for us below and our reception is unknown. In her condition, the Inquisitor's presence is detrimental and dangerous. You shouldn't encourage her." Manner coldly pragmatic but one that I believed belied heavy concern underneath.

Clasping the outstretched fingers before I could think better of it, "he's always grim, ignore him." I airily quip with more cheer than I truly felt. But as I scoot and twist to join Blackwall within what should feel like the protective cage of his arms, the violent quake of my body betrays me and my eyes unconsciously seek Solas. His expression crumbles, the guise of aloof rationality and logic slipping at my fear.

_Hold on. Lower one foot then the other. Hold on...Hold on..._

A mantra to be repeated over and over again inside my mind as I forced rigid limbs to act. The terror magnified tenfold by weakness and frigid darkness. The tightly pressed body meant to be a steadying comfort providing scarcely a buffer from the paralyzing panic as the stars above dwindled and unforgiving stone took its place.

Boots abruptly thump hollowly then Blackwall's body is leaning to move away and I turn to glance behind, never once slackening my death grip. Our stretch of ladder had ended, depositing us on a wide platform  with a second -and likely the last by the chatter of the team floating from below, to contend with. Stiffly I drop, flatting myself against the rough wall to slide along it for as long as I could to lessen the distance of open space I would have to cross. Never hearing a whisper of sound, an electric heat grazes my hip in a searing brand even through layers of cloak. Drawing me from the single-minded dread to gaze up at Solas with pupils that were surely dilated as a silent look is shared with Blackwall. Wordlessly the warrior nods and moves to vanish down into the gloom beyond, appallingly leaving me to fend for myself and without a safety net.

Thoughts of abandonment flee as eyes lovingly return to me and I'm pulled forward so soft lips can brush my temple. Lingering in a warm caress as I'm suddenly drawn to nestle in Solas' arms. Uncaring of where we were or how stalwart I was supposed to be, I fiercely clutch him. Burying my face in the only chest capable of making me feel safe; fearless, as I'm gently rocked and large palms tenderly rub soothingly along my back.         

"Do you wish to remain here, or to return, _vhenan_?" A quiet question; a quiet promise to take me wherever I desired to go.

 _Home. I want to go home._ The thready wisp of a dying wish I dared not utter though it hadn't been what he meant. "Here. I want to stay here." Raising my chin to stare up at his face.

Eyes of wind and storm intently study me, searching for truth or perhaps something more before Solas reaches behind to capture my wrists and retreats a step. Bringing icy fingers to his lips, he presses languid kisses to nearly each knuckle before pivoting to draw us to the ladder down. "Let us go then, my heart." A wealth of solemnity; of adoration, a vow of safekeeping, in that brief press.

How very different to have his warmth held out in waiting when I slide from the platform, to have it at my back as I lower into the pit. Enchanted butterflies fluttering in my chest in lieu of suffocating tightness. A relaxed and perhaps somewhat excited beat of my heart in place of the thunderous sickening pound. How very different that single presence made as we descend into the deep.

~

It was trippy this tomb. Since touching down and ambling our way through the halls, déjà vu and vague recollections of memory consistently filtered through my mind. The layout, the rooms; they were the same as what I had experienced many a time in the real world.

And this more than anything made it suspicious as shit.

The long chamber lined with chiseled statues of dwarves appearing to suspend the ceiling, the rubble and thin lethargic billows of fog ghosting just above the floor. Long passages of stairwells lit by brilliant veilfire to lead us to an immense square chamber alit with more veilfire and radiant amber veins. Runes that provided just enough luminance to penetrate the mist and prevent anyone from tumbling into a secondary mined shaft. The Elven artifact that 'happened' to lay moderately buried at the bottom and Solas' delight at its discovery. The lone brazier to catch attention and lure wanderers to a room of stone and puzzles.

Familiar and oh so fishy.

Coupled with every veilfire blazing brightly and still no signs of the Venatori party who were supposed to be ahead of us, this situation had 'you're at the end of normal, hope you enjoyed it while it lasted sucker!' stamped everywhere.  

Together the six of us filed into the chamber before fanning out to cover the room in the event of someone, or something, having hidden themselves to lie in wait. Sparring only cursory glances at ignited braziers and fragmented inscriptions as we step over debris on our way to the sole archway forward.     

" _Ugh._ This again." Rolling her eyes in disgust at the tablets. "Who looks at this and thinks it's a good idea? Bloody arse-backwards if you ask me." Grunts and tired sighs of agreement from the squad come at Sera's wisecrack. Everyone quite anticipating lunacy in one form or another and not especially eager to learn what it would be. And lord how soon we were to find out. 

As the previous chambers and halls had been, nothing emerged to disturb our progress. Likely whatever possible opposition or traps having been already handled by the Venatori. In pairs we stride from the last of the familiar and enter the unknown, leaving the puzzle chamber for a short corridor that was strangely grey despite channels of rosy runes guiding our path. Its ashen hue continuing and expanding when we step from the hall and into the murky stillness of an extensive empty space. Easily the length of three basketball courts and wholly clear of places for one to conceal themselves, it seemed the room was harmless enough. Yet having been through two tombs already that appeared 'harmless', we weren't chancing anything and instead held off moving farther inside until everyone had spread out to create a line.

Mages protectively centered and warriors taking end for quick maneuverability, we hadn't gone five feet before the stone beneath our heels flares with a silver light. Immediately muscles tense and harsh curses ring as bodies leap away, bracing and fully expecting a hard magical blowback point-blank. Focus zeroes on the glittery shine and to our amazement, realize it was a message of ancient dwarven scrawl which we had unintentionally activated.   

Brows scrunching as he absently reads, " 'Weakness lurks. Only the unbending pass'..." before looking straight ahead with a sigh. "How very charmingly obscure."

"Probably another of those spirit thingies ain't it? It's a stupid spirit thingy." Shoulders drooping at the likelihood.

"Obscure as the message may be, it would be wise to heed its forewarning." His pensive gaze roving over the script as though double checking Dorian's translation. "If nothing else, these ruins have shown a propensity for ruthlessness."

"So, do we get a fight, a trap, or both?" Tone glib but likely only half joking by the way his finger idly drummed his sword's pommel.   

"Nothing feels out of the ordinary -well ordinary for us, and still no sign of that Vint squad." Sounding as if a growled huff was on the edge of escaping at the prospect of more mystical mind games. "Don't suppose your mage senses are 'tingling' or anything?" Turning to regard Dorian and Solas with an expression that wasn't particularly filled with optimism nor expectation.   

At their twin shakes and not in a position of having many options, I lead us on with a cross of my fingers that whatever was doubtless to pop forth wasn't going to hurt too badly. Confident but alert we march the dismal expanse, believing our odds of making it through unmolested was astronomical. My eyes skid over the barren floor, up the walls, along the ceiling; looking for any little blip of movement. Wondering what, if anything, I should be vigilant for.

Inexplicably I find my gaze slipping to peek at the lithe figure hiking feet from me, lingering and returning with more frequency to trace bewitching features. Shivers and heat race over sensitive skin as lines of a seductively angular jaw are followed. As eyes trail down proud shoulders before sliding to a tapered waist that was anything but feminine. Appreciating the play of cloth and shadow on alluring curves and mouthwatering muscles. All the while imagining and wishing I was free to trace that beauty in earnest. To feel the flex and strain of muscle beneath greedy fingertips.

 _Ah, after, after...now's not the time. Gotta stay focused and get this tomb's key. Focus...Focus..._ Resolutely tearing away to stare dead ahead but unable to go more than three steps before being dragged right back. _Not so angry anymore...would it be okay to try and touch him now? Maybe I should see if I can melt that anger more when we're done here._

Palms itching to stroke, wandering and covetous across fevered flesh. Brushes of wanton lips, greys devoured by black; scenes of pleasure left to drift unrestrained and torturous in my mind's eye.

I inhale deeply against the lust such carnal musings elicit, endeavoring to get hormones and runaway thoughts under control. Regretting that I simply couldn't turn around and take Solas with me as desire licked aching nerves.

_Tomb, dead things, riddles, Venatori. Tomb, dead things, riddles, Venatori._

Mentally chanting absolute nonsense in an effort to drown out flashes of strong hands pinning, of sweat slicked muscles flexing. Losing the fight horribly as my brain takes it as a dare and snowballs further. Fingers tapping the side of my thigh in frustrated arousal, I swallow as nipples harden and the lick of desire swells to a desperate burn. Without realizing it I lessen the distance between us, shifting my trajectory to walk closer and only halting just short of being able to touch him because Iron Bull's agitated snort snaps me from the lust fueled haze.

"Are you alright, Bull?" Slanting his lover a look. Worry may have layered his tone but there was something sad underneath that I couldn't identify and his normally plucky air was gone.

"Yeah...yeah. Just feeling a little antsy." Never once changing the direction of his gaze or pausing in the fisting and relaxing of his hands I noted.

An upset crease wrinkles her brow as Sera rubs a hand in the center of her chest like it pained her, "I don't like this place. Somethin' don't feel right, _I_ don't feel right."

"Then I'm not the only one." The usual robustness, the heartiness; absent. Strangled by grief and languishment as specters of the past dance within haunted eyes.

"Seems we are already being tested, perhaps even the moment we entered." His low timbre, his demeanor; so very cold and revealing nothing of the man behind the indiscernible mask.

Dorian's complexion had lost its bronze luster, growing pale as an expression dangerously close to being sickened suffuses his face. A trembling hand rises to wipe his forehead before he remarks, "weakness was it? Someone's petty way of drudging bad memories more like."

Massaging more vigorously and possibly not even listening to the others, "it's getting worse!"

Ignoring Sera's outburst, "what better way to deter trespassers then preying on emotions one preferred forgotten?" Solas dispassionately challenges.

_Oh. Fuck._

Eyes wide as I stared straight ahead and pressed my mouth firmly shut. Stupidly brilliant crypt had indeed chosen the perfect emotion for me and one that would make it near impossible to find the will to continue. However unlike the rest of the team, mine didn't suck balls  -well not yet anyway and not in the way I wished. Give me crushing sorrow, give me hate; shit, give me goddamn anything!, and I would pigheadedly stubborn my way through it. But target an aspect of my selfishness while sauntering eye candy was literally feet from me, then stick a fork in me because I was done.

"Inquisitor?" Concern for me, for my mental state. Even against the inner demons plaguing him Blackwall saw and cared.

Face staunchly forward. "Good. I'm good. Super good. Good. Everything's good." I answer in a rush as a fresh punch of need hits and a moan threatens to escape.  

"...You sure?"

Lips tightly sucked in and clamped shut, I vigorously nod my head, incapable of doing more lest I embarrass myself.

"You appear ill, _vhenan._ " joining in with Blackwall. "There is no shame if you desire to go back." A small crack in that icy exterior.

Vehement head shakes are the response as I wisely refuse to look anywhere but at the door.

_By all that is holy leave me alone and stop asking questions!_

Waves of arousal were a persistent bombardment, stimulating tender peaks to send jolts of pleasure directly to my core as though attached by an erotic string. Gliding, flicking, lapping; at nerves strung taut and desperate for an outlet. Aching for the faintest touch.

A whimper of need might have come but if it did, it was covered by the vicious rumbles emanating from Iron Bull. Intermittent huffs and snorts of agitation had morphed to constant growls on the brink of being feral as a mouth accustomed to easy revelry snarled savagely. Hands which had been in perpetual motion cease and now remained rigidly closed at his side, leeching knuckles of their color from the force. It gets the attention of the squad, briefly pulling everyone from the darkness of their thoughts.

The despondent furrow of Dorian's brow deepens as rich eyes dulled by heartbreak shift to study Bull. "Bull?" More than vulnerability, than hurt, in that call.       

Something flits over his expression, imperceptibly gentling the harshness as he finally tilts his chin away from the path ahead. "If I snap, aim for my left." Unafraid determination and steel in his voice as he silently conveyed the need for Dorian to understand.

As close as we were all becoming, it was so very rare for Dorian to merely let go, to be the one who approached. But it was him who did so now as he tenderly reached to cup a tense fist while quietly offering his strength. Expressing without words that Bull held his support and his faith.

Swallowing, I guiltily cast my eyes from the two. Unable to fathom how Iron Bull could handle having his greatest fear slowly turning reality. At having the person you were beginning to love in danger of being harmed by your own hands.

Sobering and distressing as it was to consider, it provided only a temporary lull in my libido gone wild. It seemed cheating by supplanting your emotions with something else wasn't tolerated as sensations of tingling strokes and tantalizing warmth redouble.

_balls._

Eternally grateful that my already squirrely tottering cleverly concealed it, I squeeze my thighs to rub them together as I woodenly walk. Like a lover worshiping every inch of skin, the feeling of sizzling caresses suddenly assail me, bringing me to incrementally hunch as insides quiver from the flood of desire.

_Balls._

I was on fire, my body burning with the need to be touched, to be filled. Nipples throbbed with each inhaled breath against soft fabric, torturously reminiscent of teasing fingertips as a sensuous heat brushes slick folds. Eliminating the last shred of fight.

_Balls!_

Promptly dropping to a knee where I stood. Brutally clutching my thigh with one hand while the other propped on raised knee to dig into the bridge of my nose. I shut my eyes against the overwhelming craving and sensations promising to tow me under. Battling to suppress moans on the tip of my lips from spilling as skin becomes increasingly ultrasensitive, vowing to unravel the little decency I maintained.

I didn't care about leaving, didn't care about the Venatori or some secret key. I wanted Solas. Wanted his much larger body pressed behind me as I was taken against a wall. Wanted him sprawled on the floor to finish what we started in the Fade. To kiss the reluctance of having an audience from hi-

 _....aud--_ Eyebrows scrunching for a second then, _Lord the team!_ Brain reeling back in at the reminder we weren't alone. _Jesus I'm about to force the unfortunate bastard and then he's going to turn apocalyptic. World's going to be destroyed, lands going to be trashed, and I will forever be immortalized as the Dalish who caused the obliteration of Thedas._

Vaguely the impression of bodies crowding me nudges the edge of my awareness and I have enough presence of mind to answer concerned companions with a spread of my fingers in a halting gesture. Needing them to back up and leave me the hell alone but powerless to voice the slightest rebuff as I warred against longed for fantasy.

A subtle stir of the air; a clink of metal shifting, then, "Do yo-" Worn leather claps my shoulder and a noise bursts from my lips. The sound swiftly and mercilessly smothered with my fist but not before a weighty silence descends.

_Oh my god kill me now!_


	72. Chapter 72

Horrifying absolute silence reins. The expression of wordless perplexity suffusing the faces of those around me -well, all except one that is.

Lovely greys had widened with unmistakable recognition before sharply turning to Blackwall, "allow her a moment, give her room." Steel and ice that brokered no argument and instantly had the hand removed from my personage.

Disturbingly I nearly whimper in protest at the loss of contact. Making me want to gag at the disgusting lack of discrimination my body was currently practicing yet I couldn't even muster that much as desire bathed me with delicious heat. Heat that would be a simple matter to quench if I but used the hard body kneeling inches from me. The quick glance I intended is instead a lewd ogle as eyes suggestively rove down Solas' athletic form, knowing exactly how tantalizing the muscles that lay hidden beneath the fabric were.

Lids narrow at my perusal and he subtly shifts to put more distance between us as a fidgeting Sera tersely barks, "let's get gone, yeah?"

Shooting her a look of censure before returning to me with a gentler tone, "we cannot linger here, the pull of our hearts is nothing more than a ready weapon to be used against us. Don't let their memory overpower you."

Attention never wavers from glorious thighs as I answer with an absent lick of my lips. If I was in a semi-coherent mental state, I would've been insanely proud and patted myself on the back for not outright panting at him.

Ears faintly color a rosy pink as Solas runs a palm along his skull uncomfortably. The expression of wishing for a pit to open under his feet obvious on his face when Dorian fills the quiet. "Difficult as it may be, you have to move. Dallying only makes the effects worse and prolonging our departure to coddle-"

"You pop a boner that feels like it's been standing for ten hours, then we'll see how overly spry you are to prance around a goddamn tomb." I irately hiss. Dorian's pointed reprimand had punctured a bit of the sexual daze, bringing me to focus on him for a second rather than the embarrassed siren crouched next to me. Personal experience with persistent erections might be nonexistent, but the hundreds of drug commercials telling me they sucked couldn't be all wrong.

It was a testament to how shitty everyone was feeling that when features smoothed with sudden understanding, barbs and laughter did not accompany the reveal. Instead of the deserved heckles my condition warranted, it received preoccupied nods and Sera's fairly logical -if somewhat curt, advice of, "well? Hurry and nab her then, otherwise don't say piss if she jumps some other bones." Giving Solas a look as though she was blaming him for the delay.

Solas' snarky retort, his cold order of, "Not. A. Word." to watching comrades; it was all lost when Solas leans closer and my mind and body immediately snag on that fact. Like a starved leech I pounce for him before he barely began to move; taking it as an invitation to act on fevered instincts. Though the mad lunge may have been expected, the ravenous intensity being thrown at him was likely underestimated. In a clumsy collision of limbs, I dive at Solas. Clamping myself to him and sending him back on his butt with a surprised _oomph!_ as I cradle his face in my hands and swoop in to greedily plunder soft lips. Unapologetically sweeping my tongue to taste and take as I stroke over perfect teeth, as I impatiently twine and flick in a demand for pleasure.

Throaty moans freely pour at the feel of Solas' heavenly heat beneath me, desperate to experience more of it as I plaster myself against him and strong fingers seize my wrists. Gently but firmly they're yanked down while the hot brush of his mouth jerks away with a flustered rasp.

"Akira.-" Undeterred from the chin turned aside to keep me from recapturing his mouth, I press eager kisses along his jaw while wiggling a hand from his grasp. "-No." Hastily catching runaway fingers tugging at his belt. "Go, we will follow shortly." A vexed pitch to the command as both arms are pulled behind my back and imprisoned together inside his large palm. Bringing aching breasts to thrust forward and tortuously brush the iron wall of his chest in a maddening graze. The harsh growl of Solas' curse seems to come from far away as I chase the divine sensations; hopelessly rubbing sensitive peaks against exquisite muscle, practically purring in approval as I nipped the shell of his ear. Hips wantonly undulate, creating agonizingly wonderful friction that wrung lustful mews and speared a rush of raw desire to pool between trembling thighs before an ethereal hand joins real in a rigid hold to still their erotic roll. "Enough. Remember where we are and our purpose here." A second curse quickly follows as attempts to stand while trying to pin eager limbs without harming proved near impossible.

The clasp restraining my wrists vanishes, abandoning the futile battle to instead heft me higher so he could amble to his feet, marvelously setting my hands free to wander. Lips and teeth ardently travel the line of his jaw, his ear, the vulnerable skin of his throat; restlessly seeking more as each taste incited the need to be devoured, conquered. Fingers frantically knead the material at his back, his shoulders, his chest; massaging, pulling, in a fierce want to touch delectably sculpted muscle as the body clutched between my legs excruciatingly rubs seemingly every erogenous spot I possessed.

Threadbare fabric fists in my hands, the persistent thrum of arousal like a pounding heartbeat screaming to be answered and channeled at the man in my arms. Magic weaves and flits in delicate wisps, gathering to remove the impediments barring access to what I desired as Solas stiffens and the grip at my waist tightens, "Akira wai- _Fenedhis,_ forgive me, _vhenan_." Frigid air suddenly stabs my hip in a bitter bite, making me rear back with a yelp as Solas breathlessly ventures, "better?" his velvety timbre sounding muffled, as though filtering past layers of thick wool.  

"No." I sourly pout then blink when I realize most of the lust fueled haze had lifted and we were no longer in the Hall of Randy. I could clearly see the squad over Solas' shoulder, standing together farther inside the corridor. Their mouths moving and talking amongst each other but bizarrely unable to hear anything.

With a disbelieving hum Solas carefully nudges me to disentangle myself, fully bringing my attention to kiss swollen lips and the man who'd bravely carried me through wet dream territory. Features flushed an adorable pink and breaths slightly winded, Solas was the picture of harried elf with clothes horribly askew and vivid blemishes beginning to bloom on the side of his neck. I resolutely pinch my mouth shut at the glaring sight of hickeys covering his pale skin, positive that my glee of the situation and subsequent amusement wouldn't be shared at the moment.

Beautifully darkened pools of grey narrow as they study me, "I am happy you draw enjoyment from this." Sounding anything but while fingers deftly straighten and tuck rumpled attire.

The unrepentant mirth morphs to mortified embarrassment as my indolent admiring stutters over visible dampness blotting the front of Solas' tunic. Further proving my total lack of restraint and slamming home the realization that it had humiliatingly been in full view of everyone. By the extreme heat washing across my cheeks I know I'm turning scarlet and I just want to curl into a ball of shame and exile myself to the corner until I withered away into a pile of disgrace.

Hands refined and gifted shine with a gossamer light, glowing an unearthly blue as they still and eyes a devastating reflection of their light soften. "The scars of the past have a way of blinding one's mind to the affairs of the present." Stifled and distorted but no less tenderly given.

Yet finding humor in the whole event, my self-conscious smirk is instinctual. Charmed at his endearing effort to comfort me however preparing for the monster ribbing that was sure to fly my way anyway. Loudly obnoxious sex noises, ridiculously blatant wet spot; oh no, they certainly weren't going to be confused as to what direction the tomb had gone in to screw with me. Uncomfortable and awkward as it was, I could at least take solace that my dark trousers camouflaged moisture slicking inner thighs and provided a measure of decency.

Yay for small victories I guess.

"You look like you made it through okay,-" the smirk broadening and a short giggle escaping as I skim over him once again. "Kinda." I correct merrily, making sure to avoid gawking at the impressive hickeys decorating him.

Ghostly luminance lazily coils in his right palm, hovering above his lower abdomen as Solas levels a deadpan expression at me. "A squid would have presented a simpler task to fend off."

His dead serious delivery pulls delighted laughter from me and I step close to stand on tiptoe to place playful kisses before moving back with a blissful hum. Heat, subdued and mild radiates from his hand as Solas slowly glides over damp cloth. In front of my eyes the embarrassing evidence of my pawing starts to gradually dry then evaporate and I'm rendered speechless as the sensation of a bulging ripple passing through the air around me comes soon after. Like an impenetrable bubble suddenly being burst; noise, the unsettled chatter of comrades, it all suddenly rings in my ears.

"-oody awful. Didn't feel no happy tingles. I'd have taken happy tingles."

"I think we all would have preferred to experience something else."

Their stressed, worn voices reach me. Low, but clear and unaltered they reach me.

Stupidly I stand there, looking on while wings wildly fluttered and strings wretchedly tugged. Defenses inadequate and vain crumbling against the lengths taken to shield something so inconsequential as modesty. How unfairly; how effortlessly, he could incite and influence the heart I strove so stalwartly to guard. Fingertips rise, tracing in a feather-light graze from ear to chin. Enticing distracted eyes to return to me just as the taxed hails of comrades call to us, halting the dangerous line my emotions were taking.

What I had wished to say, what had been meant by that touch before the interruption I knew not. However somewhere a tightly buried part breathed in relief, whispering of loss and sorrow. Of a road condemning and inescapable once tread.

~

 _uuuugghhhh...soo loooonnng..._ Blowing a dreadfully bored puff while we trudged what felt like an eternal corridor.

Though it certainly could've fooled me, Infinity Hallway wasn't some obstacle or test devised to drive us insane. After a few awkward apologies had been exchanged, the six of us had set off down the passage in one of the most uneasy silences ever. Only breaking it to quizzically turn to the mages for assurance that the hall was in fact normal and not a preposterously annoying spell of everlasting hallway or something equally shitty.

It made for a dull and monotonous stroll, everyone being still weirded out by the first test and experiencing lingering memories I was sure. Akin to waking from an exhilarating dream or a hellish nightmare; the potent punch had been ripped away but there remained that tiny throb of emotion that reminded you of what you had left behind. Perhaps that was it. Maybe the objective of this grossly overlong highway to hell was to put its travelers in a position where they could do nothing _but_ lament on emotions they barely bested. What better way to weaken an already hurt resolve then to force the enemy to stew in the trap that was their own mind?

 _Clever girl_... Brain entertaining itself with mental pictures of raptors and Australians as the floor once again began to gradually dip.

"Andraste's sword, how far does this go?"

Raising a palm to lightly run along grooved runes, "these ruins seem endless." Solas acknowledges.

Like the sigh of a great beast, a low gravelly rumble abruptly echoes from the path ahead. Scarcely did it come before a harsh whoosh of air fans our faces and we're left glancing at each other in an unnaturally tranquil corridor.

"So...mystery solved?" Dorian quips, noticeably making the effort to buck up. "Can't wait to see what sort of loveliness is next. Colorful reenactments of traumatizing fears...Perhaps a gaily sung tale of misery, now wouldn't that be fun?"

"Long as it don't end arses up, knobs out, and Inky tuppin' Solas in my face --I'm good."

Gasping in exaggerated outrage, "Hey! I've got a boomin' rumpus, having it flapping in the breeze, you would be so lucky."

Solas' soft exhale of resignation and muttered, "I don't know where to begin..." is nearly drowned out by the choked chuckles springing up beside him and Iron Bull's query of, "flapping?"

A genuine grin blooms on her face as Sera counters, " _Nghaha_ , what? You mean the pasty bum I constantly see flashing in the sun and blindin' everyone?"

"You're welcome." I magnanimously profess with a haughty sniff.

Snickers and amused smiles surface as tensions ease, the specters of the past losing their stranglehold so they could once more become locked away. Our morale restored and minds unclouded when we at last step within a pillared vestibule. Veins of gleaming runes branching down towering columns lend the chamber an atmosphere of enchanted creepy as shoulders flex and toes bounce; attitudes psyching up and getting ready for anything.

_Ssssk!_

Bodies crowd, instantly closing rank at the hair-raising rattled scrape. Eyes fugitively scan the room, searching for its source when the hissed rasp of feminine murmurs float over the stone.

"more...more."

"they come, they come...more come."

"fine specimens, strong specimens..."

"fine, fine." Excited rasps of agreement that resonated unnervingly close.

_Ssssk! Ssssk!_

Goose-bumps rise, pebbling my skin as a chill races down my spine. Fingers dart to smooth leather, palming the hilt of my dagger nervously while Dorian's stance beside me widens. "Always with the ominous sounds...Is there some sort of unwritten rule of villainy that requires a sinister noise precede them?"

" _Nrughh..._ really starting to hate this desert..." Bull sourly grumbles.

_Ssssk!_

"fine..."

Orbs flare, gathering magic in preparation for a fight as blades slide from their sheaths. Postures brace, gearing for a possible blitz attack while gazes rake the chamber for a glimpse of the women. 

"more..."

"here...they're here..."

_Ssssk! Ssssk!_

"Yeah we're here, but where are they? Don't see a bloody thing."  

"Wai--Oy! There." Elbowing Blackwall and gesturing with her arrow. "Out the wall holes."

Focuses train to the left far wall, following her trajectory to what were perhaps bolt-holes high above the floor and three cloaked figures silently emerging. Their limbs crawling and gripping stone with the eerie noiselessness of a shadow as they descend.

"Steady now." A hard edge steeling over Blackwall's features.

"Wait. " Eyes calm, tracking the shrouded forms with a calculating glint, "I do not believe violence is their intent. Their presence was not concealed, though they easily could have done so. It suggests their approach is deliberate."

"Uh huh. You know what else is 'deliberate'? Arrows in creepy shite being creepy."

"Normally I'm with Sera --especially when crap's scurrying along walls like spiders, but these tombs haven't exactly been a trip down sane-alley."

"Nothing about this entire venture has been sane, Bull." Dorian glibly amends. "Doesn't hurt to see if Solas' hunch is correct however. Worse case, this leads where these situations always seem to go for us: blasting the living daylights out of some unlucky sap --or in this instance three."

Funny that Dorian's observation was so accurate, but debating whether Solas' assumption was right or not became moot extremely quick. By now the trio was sauntering towards us with a sashaying sway of the hips that brought to mind Jessica Rabbit and if an attack had been their goal; well, they were near enough that striking wouldn't hold very much of a surprise nor be particularly intelligent. Curiously we stand, primed for a battle but waiting to see where this triple soup sandwich was heading.

Voluminous hoods obscure the features of the women beneath the mantles --for women they most surely must be from the provocative glide of their walk and feminine lilt; placing us in the rather difficult position of having to guess the mood. I can virtually feel the penetrating stares of unfamiliar eyes roaming over each of us before the titillated rasps renew.

"my, my..."

"rare energy, potent energy...."

"yes, yes...better than the ones before..."

"better, better." They happily chime.

"Why do I feel like the prized meat being ogled in a butcher shop window?" Dorian mutters.

Impossibly looking even more anxious and unsettled, "hearing them chatter ain't making it any less weird." Sera acidly tosses at Solas.

"That it, is this all they do? Talk in circles." Blackwall tacks on with a scoff. "Or are we supposed to question them until they make sense?"

"If it is, there's something they need to answer."  I state with a stern squint at our mystery trio. "How'd you climb down without your cloaks flipping?"

Slanting me a glance as he remarks in a tone of such long-suffering, "are there not _other_ , more pressing concerns in which we should focus our attention?" his expression one of being completely put-upon.

" _phhbtt_...fine. But I maintain that was a perfectly legitimate question." I mumble with a sulk at Solas before pointing my dagger's tip at the middle figure, "Alright BLT, what's the deal and what're you after? And don't think for a second we're ignorant on how your nightmare funhouses operate, so playing innocent ain't gonna fly."

Three cowled heads tilt and by the freaky chill brushing down my spine, fasten their regard on me. "not a deal."

"no dealing."

"a toll."

"a toll, a toll." Riveted hisses affirm in unison.

 _Wow. That explained absolutely nothing._ I raise an eyebrow as their heads dip and they reach for their hoods, "Uhh...okay...and what does tha--aahhhhuu...." finishing on a cringing wheeze as faces are bared and startled exclamations blurt from some of the squad.

"Yie~"  "Ohh...yikes."  "Nope."    

Skin shriveled and ashen, as fascinatingly hideous as despair demons; it was _nuh-uh_ grimaces all round. In fact I had to wonder if maybe these 'ladies' were the unholy byproduct of Despair and Terror getting it on with their elongated jowls on the verge of being comical and not a lip in sight. Flesh stretched and peeled back to permanently expose teeth and gums alike in a horrifying beauty queen smile. Rows upon rows of wrinkles that gave the appearance of mummified tissue. Eyes and ears nonexistent though you knew they had to be somewhere...

Mouth spread in an overly large smile, I futilely try to look away from the nightmare fuel while muttering through clenched teeth, " _hrmm_...you're so...so ugly..."

 _Kakakakakaka_. Face traps one would never want to kiss wildly chatter then stop just as suddenly as they began. "payment forward."

"four energies."

"four offerings."

Brow scrunching, "...Four?" Twisting to wave to my left and right as I slowly ask, "you...mean the guys? This is a test for them?" Baffled as fuck as to whether I was deducing their fragmented ramblings correctly.

Intrigue, suspicion, cocky defiance; emotions doubtlessly swimming below the bated vigilance the team observed the crones with.

"no test."

"no test." Two disturbingly echo.

"simple toll."

"simple payment."

"simple offering." They silkily finish.

Boots subtly shift and toes ground, my stance pivoting as I brace for a nasty confrontation. Not at all loving what the trio might be insinuating and certainly not alone in that thought as expressions turn grim.

"An 'offering' is it? You bloody witches want my life you'll have to take it."

Clattering _kakakaka_ cuts through the pumped hostility Blackwall's words generate as each head eerily tilts. "no life, no death."

"collectors."

"painless sharing."

"painless taste."

"energy freely given."

"vigor freely offered."

"for payment forward." The crones simultaneously rasp.

Blinking, "Oh...huh." my posture relaxing and moving to stand straight as I swivel left and right, "that...doesn't sound bad?" I muse aloud with an absent sheath of my weapon. "Can't be that dangerous if the Venatori made it through, but it's up to ya'll-" Perhaps taking it as consent, ghastly fingers skim rich lapels before pulling with a decisive flick of the wrist, "what do you wan-" and promptly dropping thick cloaks.

" _AHH!"_ The cringing, repulsed cries are instantaneous as we're treated to the scaring, burning image of naked lady demons in all their saggy, shriveled glory.

"CAN"T UNSEE! CAN'T. UNSEE!" Turning away and shutting my eyes against the sight as I vainly thrust my palms out to create a screen.

Hearing Bull's dramatic acceptance of, "it's official. Now my penis is just for show."

"Frigging piss-pots! You're ruining tits!"

Peeking to see the usually unruffled demeanor skewed in undisguised objection, "now I am decidedly uncomfortable."

"Maker's --ballocks, how do we make it stop?!"

"I-I don't believe I can look away, it's like I've been mesmerized. With each blink I think, 'things truly couldn't have gone that far down the proverbial toilet'. Then I remember where I am."

_Kakakaka_

"fine men...."

"fine vigor..."

"fine, fine." They eagerly titter with a lift of gnarled fingers to caress the air as if the guys were already beneath them. 

_Kakakaka_

Shrugging with a hopeless _what're gonna do?_ , I turn to the others, "hup. Well, guess it's time for ya'll to drop 'em and give one for the team. Right, Sera?"

"Looks like."

At Solas' expression of abject refusal I hook a thumb at the enthusiastic crones and give him a frisky _tsk-tsk_. His lips press in a hard line and frowning something fierce he asserts, "I unequivocally decline. Vehemently."

The combination of harassed balking and piqued displeasure on his face --as though I had been serious, draws bubbling mirth while the men's protests are fast to join. " _haha_ I'm kidding...." Before wiping away all levity and solemnly ordering, "only Blackwall has too."

Leaning over and clapping a callused palm on Blackwall's shoulder, "go get 'em, Furrows. Put some sugar in those bowls."

"Oh-oh! Bulge the back of the old onion bag." Sera adds helpfully.

Mouthing _Bulge?_ to Bull as Blackwall rears back with a fervent shake of his head. "No! There will be no sugar, bulging, or otherwise. This is a command I must wholeheartedly spurn, Inquisitor."

"Now that sounds very un-Warden like. Didn't you swear an oath of duty and unwavering obedience?" Dorian innocently asks.

"I think what you are looking for is sacrifice." Solas supplies. "Although in this particular instance the two may not be so far apart." The seductive timbre unnecessarily irresistible when imbued with humor and light.   

Lips curving in a devilish smirk, "well then, seems we've stumbled on the ideal trial for you, my hairy friend. Best of luck, we shall always remember you." Dorian retorts.

"Not what our vow has in mind."

Pretending as if he never spoke, "you're a good man, Blackwall, surrendering yourself to demon lady fondling," nodding regretfully before emitting a pitiful sniffle. "Good man."

"Uhh...Inquisitor-"

"A gem among men." Bull piles on.

"Wait, no. I'm no-"

"Getting off decrepit old crones...truly a hero."

An expression of slightly horrified creases his brow when he looks at me and it's the hardest thing I have ever done not to laugh as I'm anxiously asked, "I'm not actually expected to give myself over to them...?"  

However Sera's, "oh, we was jokin'?" is the icing on the cake and I can't maintain the straight face anymore. My hoots only cease when the chattering _kakakaka_ of the trio intrudes and they make as if to advance towards the guys.

Automatically stepping in front of Solas, "whoa, hold on there, calm those sad hushpuppies. Your deflated sand bags aren't going anywhere near my man." More than ready to take a boxing stance if they pushed.

And it seemed they were probably contemplating it as they hesitate and three heads eerily sway to me. "a taste for passage" They keenly reiterate before once again fixating on the men.

Bodies brace and tensions rise as it appeared they would press and I pivot in preparation as I warn, "Eh-eh! Reel it in. Not happening, Crypt Keepers." Demonstrating my sincerity by summoning wisps to hastily collect around balled fists.

_Kakakaka!_

"energy offered-"

""vigor given-"

"for way forward-"

"no passage without payment" Their rasped hisses sounding incrementally pissed at being denied what they clearly wanted.

"Well that just sucks for us then don't it?" I bite back.

_Kakakaka!_

Muscles taut, we sit In the strangest stand-off merely glaring each other down. Waiting.

And waiting.

Minutes pass and not a nipple swing from our gruesome-threesome, we tentatively inch backwards to put some space between them and us. It was evident they had no desire for a fight and would let the matter rest; or at least they would for now, but it still left us in key limbo. Never allowing the crones to leave our sight, we've nearly backpedaled to the doorway before pausing to form a loose semi-circle and angle to speak with one another in conspiratorial whispers.

"Simple innit? Vinty hats have to come this way."

"What are the chances there's an alternative exit?"

"Maintaining our presence here does afford the best opportunity of capturing the Venatori, yes." Solas evenly grants, as if he was trying to explain logic to children. "However we must consider the possibility they failed in their endeavor."

"So your saying we tear 'em a new one - _hrugh_ , can't even enjoy it. They made it all _weird_. Feels dirty and not the good kind either."

"If we're fighting, I elect to stay far, _far_ , behind you." releasing a revolted _ugh_ and shudder. "They're eyeing me like a fine wine that's been left unattended. 'Dorian, you really must put yourself away otherwise the drunkards get handsy.' Our wizened admirers being the drunks in this scenario."

Exhaling as though he was praying for patience, "no...I refer to the probability of the Venatori's success, given what we have experienced thus far. The ancient wards protecting this place are potent despite having lain dormant for so long. An all out assault as you suggest could make things even worse. Such attempts never end well."

Cutting in before his lover could with a brow quirked in challenge, "then what _do_ you suggest, Solas, _hmm_?"

Directing an annoyed scowl at the mage, "at the moment? Nothing." He curtly counters.

"Nothing?" Dorian disbelievingly sputters. "You can't be serious."

A smug smirk suddenly tugs at the corner of his mouth and with a smooth query of, "why would we? When the prize has come to us." inclines his head towards a cleverly hidden alcove and what was currently strolling from it.

The Venatori 'squad' --or more like what was left of it, notices the six of us at the same instant every single one of my teammates makes the obscenely rough connection. Face skewing and head shaking, I finally speak, " _...dude...eww._ "  


	73. Chapter 73

Wow. No words.  

Key or no key, just nope. Whole, giant bucket of nope. Not worth it, Corypheus could have whatever mystical specialness Fairel's tomb held. We were screwed, Thedas was fucked, and Corypheus was now the reining overlord. All hail the melted crayon.  

Is what I would have decreed but apparently these Venatori didn't have such squeamish sensibilities. In fact they had a mindboggling lack of partiality by my estimation. And from the cringing deprecatory looks fixed on the remaining squad members, the opinion was shared.

Countless daggers strapped to a wraith-thin body, out of place extravagant robes on a rather robust figure; these two men were the last of the reported near dozen who had entered before us. Clearly whatever toll or trials ahead had utterly decimated their ranks. However there had been no mistaking the evident smirks of triumph they wore prior to noticing our party. When forced to crypt crawl through the closest thing to a bad magical LSD trip, there could only be one reason to celebrate. They had acquired their objective.

Disregarding both the foreign language thrown at them and our expressions, they instantly palm weapons and take an aggressive stance. Ready to defend their prize as wisps; bubbly and bright, gather. Strands of energy weave and clash, sending electrifying tingles dancing across my skin. Saturating the air with the sensation of a barely contained storm as Dorian's and Solas' magic flares in response. None heeding the wild _kakakaka_ of chattering teeth our showdown seems to cause, far more concerned about the lethal hostility building.

Like blood his orb blazes, the rich vermilion casting the mage's features in harrowing shadow as it's aimed at the face of our central standing member --i.e. me. Grim and suspicious, mouth twisted in a vicious snarl, "how did you get down here? Who are you?" the Spellbinder barks before comprehension surfaces and he hatefully spits, "Marvarus and the rest would never let anyone pass, _vishante kaffas!_ You filth murdered them."

Unable to deny, I shrug. "Okay, yeah. Yeah we probably did. But hey, serious question... _Dude..._ why? Wait, no. I meant how. **How** , cuz that-" Pointing at the idling crones and giving a shake of my head, "-requires more than a stiff drink and a blindfold."

" _way_ more..." I hear Iron Bull mutter.

His venomous look pinches from the blatant mention of their little 'gift' to the demon ladies while the rogue's morphed to one of disgusted embarrassment at realizing we knew full well what they'd offered up to go forward. "Wh-th-y-Scum!" He finally manages to sputter. "Rabble such as you may have been lucky to get this far but don't think that it will last. Step aside otherwise you all die here, there will be no quarter for unclean heretics like you."

"It's a stupid desert, bitchballs, of c--!"

_Kakakakaka!_

The frenzied clattering rising and effectively intruding. Luring attentions to the fidgeting trio and their hands restlessly grasping. Putting tensions on high alert from the uncertainty and mystery of what powers they might possess.

"payment offered-"

"strength resolutely proven-"

"favor rightly earned."

"not stolen." Furious, hissed rasps of agitation infused with obvious warning to leave the Venatori alone.

I narrow my eyes, weighing the choice. My gaze flicks to the Spellbinder to see his smug expression of victory before settling on the crones once again. Fuck letting this dingleberry win. Relaxing and lowering my guard to cross my arms instead with a grin; I counter, "your duty is just gatekeepers, right? I doubt you really have any say in what happens to the little metal piece. I mean, you can't be expected to babysit whomever gets it, right? How much difference can it **really** be if it's 'lost' now instead of outside, _hmm_? Why not at least get something for your trouble, like, say...the losers?" I amiably suggest, wearing the most maniacally villainous smile by its end.

The antsy worrying pauses and three heads tilt in silent contemplation of my proposal. I was on the verge of diabolically cackling as twin looks of aghast horror wash over the Venatori's faces and the mage desperately tries to coerce, "Exalted Guardians...you cannot honestly be considering this. It is plainly a ploy on their part. They simply wish to get the reward without any of the sacrifice. What would it say to allow these...unworthy trespassers...to steal what was so valiantly fought for?" He silkily insists.

Rocking on my heels at the trio's indecisiveness, "does it actually matter? Duty's done and who's going to know? Men, men, men~ Gonna leave you some men~..." I cheekily sing.

Eyes anxiously widen as wrinkled bodies straighten and regard the two males, my hoots of evil glee already obnoxiously echoing before the crones dooming judgment sounds.

"with favor granted-"

"favor attained-"

"our duty is concluded."

Three sets of macabre smiles suddenly emerge as fingers eagerly strum the air and the words, "favor's protection is yours." are coyly declared.

"Ooh that's too bad..." Positively beaming at their scared shitless mugs. "Looks like you're both fucked --probably quite literally! Six on two, come on.-" Spreading my hands wide. "Ya'll aren't going to win this one so how about you hand over the fragment we all know you're carrying and save yourselves the embarrassing slap down. Yield gracefully." I add helpfully.

 Livid fury consumes the Spellbinder's features, the crimson of his orb burning brighter in response to his anger as eyes filled with contempt lock with mine. "Don't look down on us, slave! Two loyalists of the Empire are more than enough to destroy Orlaisian trash-"

"HA! Jokes on you! We're not Orlaisian's!"

Teeth gnashing so brutally it was surprising they didn't break, "-You should be grateful your sad existences end here."

Hands that had been poised behind his back, loosely palming a pair of twin daggers sheathed along his spine during the exchange move lightning fast. Drawing deadly weapons in a flash as if he'd but waited for the mage's cue so he could tauntingly wave the curvy asymmetrical blades that were oddly reminiscent of a Kris. "These are coated in the strongest of paralytics." A menacing smirk plays on his lips as he runs his tongue sinisterly along its wicked edge while we watched; disbelieving and speechless.  "One cut and..." Crouched, he abruptly straightens with a look at his dagger, "shit. Shouldn't have licked it." before unceremoniously crumpling like a bag of chips.

Eyebrows hiked high, I wordlessly stare at the paralyzed rogue collapsed on the floor as a suddenly frantic mage summons a tome seemingly from a spatial pocket beside him. My body instinctively squats with a start when fire unexpectedly explodes in a cindery splash against hastily erected barriers. The sight of Blackwall and Iron Bull already rushing forward snaps me from the initial startlement. Quickly I order, "we need him so no harming him! Dorian, lock that guy down, now!" Pushing off without a backwards glance to Fade Step to the fallen rogue; unquestioningly confident in the men and woman at my back.

With a phasing slide I reach the downed Venatori, speedily grabbing for the poisoned dagger resting within a now lax hold and lunging for the struggling mage. Twisting and kicking out as hectically as he could, he fruitlessly fought Iron Bull's grasp while Dorian and Solas meticulously repressed his magic with an efficiency that was frightening. Hopping to stand close with a sugary sweet smile once Blackwall had control of his flailing legs, "hey, ya'll did it once, can't be that bad, right? Whelp, have fun and thanks for the shard!" I merrily chirp before pricking his chin.

"Fu-!" Blood wells in tiny beads at the same moment his limbs utterly still and body heavily droops within Bull's arms. Maybe irked from the insults and desiring a little payback, Bull and Blackwall simply release their grips when the man's struggles ceased. Unkindly dropping him on the stone to lay with his comrade as grunts and muffled noises sounding pretty pissed come from the prone men. Ignoring them, I bend to rummage through the mage's robes while the others gather round.

Half-turned to keep naked crones in his peripheral, "remind me never to never get on your bad side, Boss." Bull comments with a teasing grin.

"Actually feel bad for the bloody bastards." Blackwall sighs with a sympathetic shake of his head.

"Yeah? Well, they were jackholes." Poking one with the tip of her bow. "Get what you toss."

Quiet and having remained silent, I dart a peek at Solas. Wondering what he thought of my decision on how to deal with the men. His expression had deliberately been smoothed to present a carefully blank mask that wouldn't tell his opinion one way or the other and it drove me fucking nuts every time I saw it. Fingers brush cold metal without warning and Solas' likely disapproval is temporarily forgotten. Issuing a jubilant whoop, I yank the thick fragment from the Spellbinder's pocket, brandishing it triumphantly for all to see.

Key in hand and clearly unwilling to wait a second longer, the triplet's agitated rasps echo. "favor is yours-"

"fulfill your promise."

"fulfill your promise." They excitedly chime.

Job done, our reason for being here accomplished, and not about to needlessly risk enraging frisky demons; I gladly stand with a breezy solute to the ladies. "All yours. Try not to break a hip!"

Spinning on my heel and passing Sera's amused face on the way to the door, " _Nghaha,_ oh I gotta see this."

Turning her to the hallway with a gentle hand, "you don't, you really don't." His beard unable to hide the cringe as euphoric hisses drift from behind.

Even while those awkwardly hilarious sounds were following us out of the room, I still looked to Solas to determine how he was taking it. He trailed nearby and noticing my interest, shifts tired eyes to me. A smile, small and weary lights his face. His unspoken show of support. Slowing somewhat, I move to intercept his trajectory and link my arm with his. My head resting on his bicep as I tilted my chin to study the fatigued lines that were more apparent than I first thought. "Probably don't want to peek back at that, do I?"

As I'd hoped, humor eases some of the strain. Brightening his eyes and marginally lessening the exhausted air as the corner of his lips twitch. "No."

Happy for the freedom to touch him, for the comfort I'd been able to provide --minuscule as it may have been; I blissfully rub my cheek against Solas. Content to stick to him in carefree abandon until reaching the surface if not for the hard bulk I held. Whatever good and contentment I felt by being pressed to Solas' heat was being annoyingly diminished by the burdensome weight clutched inside my palm. The immense responsibility and liable ramifications that such a slight thing borne was like an oppressive gloom that I couldn't avoid. What to do now, how to proceed, if I should proceed; countless questions and debates that raced through my mind ruining any sense of joy I was experiencing.

Absently I stroke the abnormally large piece, tracing my thumb along its grooves while I considered how best to handle the situation of the key and tombs I wasn't supposed to know anything about. Clueless and completely lost on how to circumvent acts I fervently wished no part of.      


	74. Chapter 74

"Maker..." Shaking with silent mirth that steadily grew.

" _BWAHAHA!"_ Her riotous howls drowning out everything else as she collapses to the sand, unable to remain standing from her laughter.

Arms crossed over his barreled chest and appearing as though he was barely holding it in, "How's that slithering working for you, Boss?"

Finally having reached the top of these hellish ladders and using my hands to crawl on my belly the rest of the way onto the platform, "I'll get you guys for your insubordination, just stay there. I'm coming for you, just wait, rollin' my way to you..." Though it was closer to flopping and dragging than a roll in my pursuit to get to solid ground.  

Having taken rear position and the last to crest the landing, " _Vhenan..._ " he says with a sigh at the sight. His shoulders sag and an expression of unsurprised embarrassment crosses his face as he hangs his head for a moment before climbing up to join me.

Hands on hips and chuckling right along with the others while Solas brought me to my feet, "Corypheus has been doing it all wrong. How silly he would feel to realize the way to victory only required sticks and air."

Hugging Solas around his waist more for selfish pleasure than for safety, I squint over at the cheeky bastard, "what's that? Make a detour to gift the Nug Wand to you? Dorian, that's insanity!" And happily chuckle when the joke wipes the smirk from his face.

I was glad for this temporary diversion. We might have made it back to the surface, but I still wasn't any closer to forming a plan on what to do next. And it felt like the stupid fragment was practically burning a hole in my pocket from how badly I was stressing about it. The best solution my lizard brain had decided to fixate on was merely playing ignorant and ignoring the issue of the key by locking the bloody thing in the Inquisition treasury forevermore. I mean, Venatori haven't necessarily been screaming about other tombs and needing to gather mysterious pieces of metal so it could work. Or it could if Thedas didn't take such glee in throwing poop on my parade. And I just knew that was what was about to happen when I catch a figure in riding leathers at the edge of my periphery.  

Certainly having been on the lookout and watching for anyone emerging from the Pit of Despair, the baby-faced scout of before slips from the shade of heavily burdened wagons. Hastily making her way to our group with fleeting, fugitive glances at Iron Bull as if she was valiantly endeavoring not too but couldn't help herself.

Nearly skipping to a halt in front of us, Scout Krill --Krell? Kale? Fuck-if-I-knew; offers a brief salute and respectfully stands at rest as she stares at me in a clearly determined fashion.

"Your Worship, Agents-" absolute, stanch focus on me though her gaze seemed like it desperately wished to slide to the Qunari in its midst. "-we'd hoped it would be you -w-n-not that we believed you'd die or anything, it-um..."

Covering the need to laugh with a poorly imitated _ahem_ at her flustered shyness, I take pity on the girl. "Did anything happen while we were gone?" Figuring there was probably a reason besides security that she was out waiting for us.

"No, my Lady." She states with a look of obvious relief. "Scout Qin made sure a guard was posted the minute your team disappeared below." Her attention skirting the tiniest bit before returning with a firm blink. "The freed laborers have been settled and given their choice of tent. We thought it fitting after what they've been through..." Eyes widening as the justification falters and slowly peters out as if she had just realized they might have overstepped their authority.

Leisurely reclining further against Solas, "and?" I prompt. Letting her know I didn't particularly care how they had dealt with sleeping arrangements.

"Supplies has been accounted for --enough for eight days if rationed sparingly, and we await your word on how you would like us to proceed, your Holiness."

 _Oh now you do, huh?_ So close to snorting at that but honestly not concerned enough to mind that I allowed the matter to pass. "I'll speak with Scout Qin then. Where is he?"

"The central forward tents, near the horses. Should I-?"

"Nah, go be free or help with the wounded. I can swing finding Qin and nothin's coming back from in there." Hiking my thumb behind us with a secretive smile.

Bowing so swiftly it turned into an awkward bob, "yes, Inquisitor, thank you, Inquisitor." Then pivots to politely leave us, although not before we all witnessed the blatantly wistful expression cast over Bull.

I wasn't the only one muffling a snicker at the dreamy leering and if it wasn't funny enough, Bull spins her back around with a call of, "hey, Scout Kail. Our mounts...I take they have been corralled with the rest?"

Big blues positively sparkle as they land on him and when pink darts to wet pouty lips, I have to curl into the warm body holding me to hide my amusement. "Uh-y-yes indeed, sir. We took good care of them, I can show you the way, it's no trouble. I mean, if you desire--like! If you like."

"Show him hard I bet."

 _Dying! I'm going to die!_ Clutching Solas' tunic in my fist and pressing it against my face to stifle the laughter.

Paying no heed to Sera and speak over her, "no, thank you, Scout _Kail_." Dorian pointedly intercedes. "I'm sure we can manage just swimmingly on our own."

Done. I was done. That slightly haughty huff in Dorian's tone just tips the scales and I'm gone. The sounds of my struggling to breathe make it impossible to hear the girl's response while Solas' soft rumble is masked behind a tactful cough and throat clearing.

Wheezing and blotting the tears, I twist back in time to observe Dorian's sour glare and Bull's answering cocky grin as Scout Kail's likely mortified form books a speedy exit.

"Jealous, Dorian?"

A scoff. "Jealous?! Of a moony child? I think not. Have you seen my smile? I'm perfect."

"D'Aww...you're jealous."

" _Hmph!"_ Countering Bull's teasing with a prideful sniff that wasn't fooling anybody.

Delighted by Dorian's taste of Karma, I elect to ruffle him too. " _he he_ , this is what you get for cackling about Scout Sugar Tits-" squeezing Solas' waist possessively in memory. "cosmic justice, Dorian. Cosmic. Justice. Enjoy Little Halla Eyes mentally riding your Bull~"

"Now there's an image..." He grouses.

Shaking his head with a low chuckle, "you're worse than siblings." Blackwall comments. His gaze roves over crimson canvases, pensively regarding the camp for a moment before he puffs a tired sigh. "What do we do about this? Lot of sick and wounded people to get across open sand." Then as if suddenly remembering our reason for coming here in the first place, "ah, that token. Is it another funny scrap like the others, Inquisitor?"

Well, I assumed so. I hadn't actually peeked at the thing. After pilfering it I had been more interested in not inciting randy demons and taking advantage of Solas' indulgence.

Releasing him with an absent pat of his hip, I bend to extract our newest prize and a string of vehement curses instantly fill my mind when I do.

"The blazes-"

"Is that a...?"

"A key. Ingenious." The greys of his eyes brightening with excitement as he stoops over me and trails a finger over the piece in question. "The marks are distinct, as are the sections missing." Moving his finger to two suspicious grooves to illustrate his point. "Likely our awarded 'favors'."

" _Hoo_..." Rocking on her heels with a hum. "So nothin' but a puzzle hunt. _Phhbt!_ Figures."

Crap. Humongous, giant, ball of crap. I had _really_ been banking on the innocuous appearance of the fragments to keep everyone from guessing their purpose. And I could have rode that all the way out of this dumb desert if the dumb Venatori hadn't been goddamn productive and collected the last two pieces!

_RARGH!! Balls! Balls! Shitty, fucking balls!_

Scratching his beard thoughtfully, "key's usually mean doors. And treasure."

"Wager it's on the surface too." Bull agrees.

 "That would be the crux of it wouldn't it? Ransacking becomes difficult when you're running blind."

" _Nrgh.._.probably should've questioned the Vints..." Then shrugs along with the rest in a _whelp, too late now_ expression.

"What did the old dwarves hide I wonder?" Fascination, intrigue; they animate the weary planes of his features, highlighting handsome angles as he considered the artifact in my grasp. The seductive timbre introspective and distant as if musing aloud.

"We're getting whatever it is, right? Cuz we are."

"How you want to handle this, Boss?" Zeroing all attention miserably on me.

_CRA~P!_

Blowing a dejected raspberry, I stuff the key back in my pocket before tossing out a procrastinating excuse. "Give me a chance to chat with Qin and see what kind of shit storm we've got to deal with first. If it's a key, it stands to reason whatever its safeguarding isn't going anywhere. Rest, sleep. Tonight after everyone's had a minute to breathe is soon enough to get back at it."

Nods and exhausted responses of, 'understood', meet my suggestion. As the team moves and shifts to step away in search of gear and sleep, I reach a worried hand for Solas. "Are you all right?" Gently skimming knuckles in an adoring caress over pale speckled cheeks. He seemed so tired...Had the crypt affected him in some way, demanded a heavier price to cast? But he hadn't needed too, it hadn't needed to happen.

 _My fault...it was all my fault._ Cradling his cherished face in fear.

Slender fingers cover mine, staying my hand so he might contently lean into the touch while greys, soft and indescribably beautiful warm. A smile, small and loving flitting across his lips as their tenderly pressed to the hold in reply. "I should ask that of you." Retaining the embrace as he lowers our hands. Fingers graze in the faintest of feather-light brushes; combing stray hair from my face with the other. "The night has been long and you are recovering. You needn't push to take on everything at once, _vhenan_." Solas says softly. "The world and its woes will yet remain."

"Maybe..." Absent and so very faraway. With a last, almost sad stroke of his chest; I allow Solas to lead us away.

_You never gave me an answer._


	75. Chapter 75

Using the low clamor of horses and laborers to stealthily tiptoe close, "Qin!"

"SH-!" Spinning around in fright. "Inquisitor! Maker, you startled me." Scout Qin states with a shut of his eyes and steadying breath before leveling that exotic gaze on me. "I wasn't informed you and your men had safely emerged." A slightly irked and bothered pinch twists his features for a moment then it's gone just as quickly as he continues, "the confirmation of, your Holinesses' wellbeing is critical, I will need to have a chat with the Scout on duty. Such a misstep in my command cannot be overlooked."

Lifting a hand to breezily wave away Scout Qin's concern, " _Eh_ , I relieved them of duty after they gave us the lowdown. Anyway there's more important things I need from you." I say airily. Here I hesitate, crossing my arms while I considered what I was about to do.

My teammates were somewhere behind me, seeing to their mounts and gathering their gear so they might find their own rest. Inside this gaping beast of a tent, Scout Qin and I were clearly visible to anyone within sight of the makeshift corral and it would be effortless enough to catch our conversation if one was to simply stride over. But I had little alternative didn't I?

During the short walk from the ruin's entrance no justification, no logical argument had formed. I was without recourse and without a way to hide. I had been well and truly trapped. Now I was forced to decide; crush and betray who I was, or walk a road of mistrust and unveiled deceit with everyone I had come to know.

My answer had been a swift and easy one.

"How many wounded and how many wagon bound?"

The question seems to focus him, the habitual stance of a soldier delivering a report taking over Scout Qin's demeanor. "Thirty-four injured ranging from bruising to crude dismemberment. Five of those were so severe it is doubtful they will make it through the day and twelve are grave enough that even if they are transported by wagon, the hazardous terrain and jostling may kill them as surely as the wounds. The rest can ride or walk well enough that it won't be a problem, but those others..." Trailing off with a shake and regretful shrug. "There is only so much that can be done. It was evident when my men and I searched for supplies that this camp was never equipped to treat large numbers. They never intended to care for the people slaving over their ruins, probably expected to simply refill the ranks of those unable to dig any longer."

I absently nod while he spoke, listening but not totally paying heed to what was being said. Our course of action was already chosen and regardless of the potential death toll, I would see it through.

"Eight days. They've got an estimated eight days of rations..." Morosely I sigh, resigning myself to the liable repercussions of my resolve. "I'll take the people to Harding's camp at the edge of the Wastes. Its pushing it with that amount of baggage and we might not make it that far but we'll try. Meanwhile, I have something else for you and your squad."

His posture relaxes and a deep furrow appears as Qin asserts, "Inquisitor, but...they would never make it. As you say, there is too much... _baggage_." Sneering the last, letting me know just what he thought of my description. "The number of invalid -coupled with supplies needed to survive in the first place- there aren't enough horses, or wagons, to accommodate such a journey. It would be better if we remained here and sent a man for aid, yes?"

"It would." I agree evenly. "It would give those with the gravest injuries time to garner strength and maybe survive being moved. But we don't have the luxury do we, _Scout_ Qin? Are you forgetting _who's_ camp we're sitting in? Do you think the one's who fled are going to ignore this place and what we've done? Not to mention the more pressing concern of limited food and a war party bearing down in the Western Approach -or did those _little_ tidbits escape your notice too? I'm going to get these people moving even if I have to stuff them into the wagons like fucking fish and you -you will do exactly as I say."

My voice lowers and slowly I step within his personal space, shifting close to stare up into eyes widened in stunned speechlessness, "you and your Scouts are to ride east, along the range, to a valley hidden somewhere along those mountains. You will see that the only way to reach it is through a cave overlooked by statues. Within that valley are ruins similar to this one, you will retrieve what you find inside and you will bring it back. I don't care how you do it, but you will do it. However it's what you might encounter in that valley that troubles me..." In a flash I grab Scout Qin's jaw in a merciless hold, uncaring of anyone witnessing the behavior as I cruelly squeeze with a cold whisper, "such a short relationship we've had Qin...yet you act as though you have authority over what happens...I don't care about that though. No...I don't give two shits about your handling of the prisoners so I've allowed you to do as you pleased. But I care about this...I care very, very much...Tell me, what sort of stories are being spread about me? Am I a hero, a blessed saint riding to the rescue?" Grip tightening further until it was guaranteed marks would remain as I lean a hairsbreadth from his face. "Or have you heard the truthful ones I wonder? Well, I will make it clear now. A dragon guards that tomb, you and your men will not engage nor harm the creature in any way." Magic; hot and nearly enough to burn gathers in my palm, pressing against vulnerable skin in a grim promise. "I will know if you do...and I will hold you personally responsible if your men fail to do as they're instructed and step out of line...do you understand what I'm getting at, _Scout_ Qin, or do you require a more permanent emphasis?" dispassionately shoving his chin upwards as magic flares brighter. "Blink once if you understand."

An eerie stillness had overtaken the area, silence only broken by the jingle of reins and chatter of freedmen farther within the camp. An unmistakable indication that didn't require me to turn to realize our conversation was not going unnoticed. It didn't matter though, none of their thoughts did. I needed his complete obedience and here I would stay until I had it.

Scout Qin could have defended himself, struggled, but he knew as I did that it would likely end in his defeat and perhaps subsequent death. Either by my hands or by those of one of my companions. So as I had before, he now had a choice. Submission or punishment. There would be no negotiation, no leniency.

Intense pools of mauve; fierce and unwavering stare back. Orbs of striking color refusing to be cowed. There we stood, neither relenting, gauging the worth of the other's resolve. Slowly mauve pools disappear behind lids shut in deliberate acquiescence. Not crippled surrender but tamed. And that was all that I had wished.

I release him then, drawing away to give Qin space while willing magic to harmlessly disperse as he calmly rightened himself. A quiet lull mirrored by the stretch behind me had steeled over his features, a soldier's mask of deference and ready compliance.

"As you desire, your Holiness. Our orders?"

"Gather what supplies you'll need, you and your Scouts depart at sunset. Come see me before you do, I have an item the ruins require to grant access."

"Yes, your Holiness."

I turn from the scout, prepared to leave when I pause without looking back. "Remember my warning, Scout Qin, there won't be a second." then move to step out into the morning sun.

As anticipated; bodies angled and faces nosily fixed on the scene unfolding quickly divert their attention or hastily scurry away, pretending indifference and engrossment in their task. As if I was somehow stupid or blind enough not to notice. Well, all except three that is.

Making no attempt at pretense they stand, wordlessly watching. Staunchly flanked by Blackwall and Sera, Bull regards the tent. His single eye impersonally locked over my shoulder before dragging its way to me. "Good, Boss?" The feigned, carefree ignorance so often permeating his character lain aside to level a gaze on me that discerned far too much.

"Yeah...yeah, we're good. Just had to make a point." I say with a weak grin. "Still there?"

A distracted nod. "Haven't seen them leave."

Offering only a, " _n_ _mm_." I change direction. Abandoning them to walk in a heavyhearted stupor for the improvised healing tent.

I didn't care how other's viewed me. I really didn't. But I had been mistaken, I had been so terribly wrong. For there was one who's opinion mattered, I recognized the depth of it now with every step I took. Now when there was no way to take it back even if I wished. And I do not. I regretted nothing of my choice, only the cloud of doubt it may bring.

Relinquish my beliefs -my morals, to maintain this illusion of naiveté? I couldn't -I wouldn't- and that is exactly what was being demanded of me.

The existence of Fairel's key was now known, and though the tomb's location was still shrouded in mystery; I would be compelled to act regardless. Travel the desert with comrades gung ho for a dragon fight? Send unknown teams to blindly search the Wastes and have them stumble upon the dragon by 'accident' -only for news of its lair and existence to spread as well if it's not killed? Or perhaps merely ignore the key altogether, tell everyone to 'shut up and don't pay any mind to it'? Yes, because I'm sure allowing a potential war asset to remain buried won't cause anyone to bat an eye or question their 'Herald's'  motives for doing so. There were too many _what ifs_ , too many ways for things to go badly. I refused to harm a dragon, whether for the sake of approval or the sake of another's desires. I wouldn't do it and I would not cede it to chance either.

This had been all that was left to me. Keep my integrity yet potentially sacrifice any strides I had accomplished in gaining trust. If--

Bitterly I laugh, earning curious glances from the few people I passed. Still I trudged, tuning out those unfamiliar visages, the laden weight of my heart growing the nearer my destination I became.

What a fool I was. It wasn't a matter of _if_ , it was _when_. When the Scouts returned and spoke of what had transpired. When reports were delivered that Fairel's tomb had been found, that their sacred Inquisitor had known where to look and even the creature laying in wait...When the questions would begin. When the unconcealed evasions and silence would begin....

When the cherished light would fade from his eyes.


	76. Chapter 76

_Sickening._

The blood rushing with a deafening whoosh in my ears, the heart drumming an erratic beat within my chest...It all felt so incredibly terrible as I stood at the entrance of a putrid tent filled with the dying.

I suppose dying might be too strong of a description -though there were many who were headed in that direction, more like filled with the critically infirm. But the reality of battle, nor its pungent stench of blood, sweat, and excrement was the cause for my hesitation. I had become well accustomed to its perfume of rot and despair that saturated the air, its startling brutality of limbs and flesh rendered beyond recognition...No, the sight of countless wounded caused not a stir in my breast.

It was the weary figure knelt in their midst that did.

Cloth; frayed and patched too many times to tally had become streaked with crimson, was only staining further while he kneeled. Seemingly indifferent to the pools of filth upon the sand as elegant hands offer compassion and relief to souls likely too far gone to save. The dark circles, the strained lines of fatigue marring handsome features; they were more distinct than when he had left us to seek the injured a mere half-hour ago. Were more distinct on both mages in fact. Although Dorian appeared to hide his exhaustion better behind saucy smiles and banter; or perhaps it only appeared that way because I hadn't spent nearly as much time ogling him in a moony stupor.

Tired as he clearly was, the ghostly glow of his magic covers his palm as Solas hovers over bloody wraps. The patient's ashen countenance and glazed eyes explaining his current lack of fear of the mage. Ragged blankets torn to be improvised bandages were soaked no matter where you glanced and bespoke of Solas' intelligence that he ignored the instinctual response to automatically change them. Gruesome wounds like the one Solas currently treated needed to be packed, not replaced. Otherwise what little clotting that had been achieved would tear away when the bandage was lifted.

Pretty greys shut in concentration and engrossed in his task, Solas had not noticed my entrance. And for this I was eternally grateful. He was busy, there wasn't time to talk or indulge his lover. There were injuries desperately requiring attention and I wasn't any help in dealing with such things. My anxieties and explanations would have to wait, they weren't as important as saving lives.

A sigh and faint smile emerges, happy for the temporary forbearance and respite this brings.

Realizing what I was doing, I quickly look away. Dragging my gaze from Solas' bent form, ashamed of the reprieve I was experiencing in the center of all this misery. Regardless of Solas and Dorian's strides and efforts, it was largely futile. There were too many in need of critical care, too many not nearly strong enough to survive even if they received treatment. Magic could heal an infection but not the fever left raging in its wake. Magic couldn't fill an empty belly, couldn't hydrate starved tissues. These people required the medicine and technology of my world, not the hampered medical knowledge of this one. Thedas may not wield the equivalent of the dark ages nor be completely ignorant of effective medicine, but its one-sided reliance of magic instead of the symbiotic use of it has crippled its people in ways they might never understand. Oh to have the science of my world and the miraculous capabilities of this one melded together...

_...ah..no...not my world. This...we would destroy this. Thedas is better off as it is. It doesn't need to change, it's beautiful the way it is. It doesn't need to change. We should never have been brought here, should never have been given a chance to tarnish this world._

As creepy as Corypheus' Future of Doom seemed and as stupid powerful as the Evanuris had been; we were truly the scary ones. They couldn't compare to things the people of my world could devise. We utterly lacked magical talents yet we had created weapons that would devastate an entire planet just because we could. Give us limitless power and magic? Whatever good-intentioned wonders and benevolence we performed would be overshadowed by our greed to push the boundaries and see what we could accomplish regardless of the dangers. Sentiments like accountability and risks would be thought of second and the innocent would be the unfortunate victims of circumstance. Isn't that what I was doing, wasn't I already being driven down that path?

The Evanuris; mages who had risen to Godhood, what had they done? Enslaved and murdered by the thousands  -hundreds of thousands? Possibly experimented on their own people? Us -normal, mundane mortals- we have done so throughout our history. No; even at Thedas' worst, it was nothing but pale imitations of what we were capable of. Give us magic and I feared what we would do with it even when altruism was the driving force behind our actions. Some nightmares begin with the kindest of dreams.

Fingers rise to absently rub my brow, bothered by the train of my thoughts. _Heh...when did I get so warped...and drawing parallels between the real world and Thedas to boot...Of course they're similar, everything here is based in part by our history and myths, when did I forget this. How ridiculous..._

"Was it worse than you anticipated?"

As if surfacing from a trance I blink to focus on the man who had come to stand with worry on his face, on the lover who I had foolishly taken. _Even he wasn't any different was he? A shadowed figment like the rest...why did I care? Why...so foolish. So very, very foolish..._

Feeling like a piece of my heart was being crushed as loving concern leaves a furrow between eyes of grey and steadying heat leans to crowd close. "Scout Qin's news troubles you." Softly, gently. Misinterpreting the cause of my silence, my turmoil. "If you like, I would listen to your thoughts. Sometimes even the heaviest burdens whittle when weighed against a sympathetic ear."

Without guile, without artifice. Giving me nothing but unselfish tenderness in this moment. And gods did it hurt.

"It's...it's nothing. It can wait." _Not ready. I wasn't ready. Just a little longer, just let me delay a little longer. Let me stay with you like this for a little longer._ "You were busy and doing something much more productive. It isn't anything dire, it can wait until later." Endeavoring to plaster an encouraging grin on my face but even I recognized how weak it was.

Eyes quietly gaze at me, unwavering and inscrutable as a regretful quality pervades Solas' low timbre. "Magic can accomplish only so much. And I do not have bottomless reserves. This will need to suffice, meager as it is. My collapse will serve none of the wounded." He pivots slightly, extending a warm hand with a gentle quirk of his lips, "Come, walk with me, _vhenan_."

Sly, evil man. He knew those were words I would never refuse.

Sedately I link my fingers with his, trying to muster and draw courage from the large palm encompassing my own. Allowing Solas to lead us where he may while the wild pound of my heart drowned out all else.

How to start, -no, _where_ to start? What was I going to say, or more importantly, what did I even come here for in the first place? What had I been expecting, what was I attempting to achieve by running to Solas? I couldn't exactly offer him the truth, so what did seeking him out accomplish? It wasn't as though it could fix anything. For that matter, why did it concern me so much how Solas thought of me? He wasn't real, but despite that fact I had come to like him, admittedly _very -frighteningly,_ much. However a lover never made me hesitate before, never caused me to question, and that was what Solas was. A lover, simply a lover....

Wasn't he?

_Better to have never known the touch of his skin or the warmth of his affection, you have doomed yourself._

Whispers reedy and damning, yet no less honest.

Progressively I was imprisoning myself in a trap of my own creation and recklessly tightening the noose. Things that actually held significance, consequences --hell, the reason I remained with the Inquisition; they were being lost in the shuffle and I was slowly losing sight of my original purpose. Restoring the Fade, protecting Solas from an as yet unknown fate; concerns on an ever expanding list that were supposed to be secondary however were garnering greater importance as time went on. Survival, the anchor's swift removal; these had once been paramount in my mind. Yet now they were being eclipsed by the desire for answers and remaining with a fantasy who would forsake me at the first whiff of what I truly was. Everything seemed to hinge on Solas' continued presence at my side, but I found I wished for more. Greedily wanting a future so badly that it was dwarfing the rational knowledge that screamed to be listened too.

_He's a lover, simply a lover. Don't imagine anything else. The Anchor is what's important. Everything else is extra. Just the Anchor...only the Anchor..._

Fingers clench, fiercely clutching the warm palm pressed to my own as teeth clamp shut against the painful ache constricting my chest. Trying to swallow past the laden weight in my throat when a light touch tips my chin to meet somber eyes. "You've gone where I cannot follow, _vhenan_. Talk to me, tell me what you need."

Such a cruel punch to my resolve and emotions. That expression of quiet love softening his features was decimating as I struggled against the ache that had become a vicious wrench. Valiantly attempting to force something past speechless lips while a stinging curtain begins to fill my vision.

_It's fleeting affection. You need him for the Anchor, only the Anchor. Don't seek more, don't wish for more. Stay for the Anchor and see he gets a future. Don't get swayed now, don't aspire for the impossible. I don't care...I don't care..._

_I...can't care..._

The hot trail of tears comes unbidden, spurring me to shut my eyes against the wavy visage gazing at me with stunned worry as my face crumbles in broken denial. Hands strong and tender instantly cup my face, holding me as one would a precious existence.

_Why did it turn out this way?_

"I..." Desperately I tried to say something -anything. Give even the vaguest of excuses in which to salvage this situation, but Jesus...it felt like I was on the verge of suffocating. "I..." Demanding that my voice cooperate. "I'm...an ugly person, Solas. You'll come to hate me." Christ, this hadn't been what I came here for. It hadn't been anywhere near what I had intended to say, but it slipped out regardless. "I-"

Fingers press, raising my face and silencing with a touch. "Stop. You are perfect as you are." Compelling tearful eyes to open and look at the unflinching solemnity staring back. "What happened with your talk with Scout Qin?"

This was it right? The reason for seeking him out; the reason I now struggled to formulate and circumvent the ramifications of my orders. All in the hope of avoiding, or at least lessening, Solas' distrust and subsequent withdrawal. Even now I was simply working under the aim of selfishly getting what I wanted. How disgusted Solas would be if he knew how unsightly his lover really was.

"I-" The excuse falters and I swallow against a mouth gone dry and a throat so viciously constricted with dread it was a miracle sound of any kind finally escaped. "I'm going to kill these people, Solas. I'm sending the Scouts out to continue on for us and we are taking the laborers to Harding. I'm...pulling us out of the Wastes. We're done here. I threatened Qin about following commands when he wanted to argue against it." It wasn't the cause of my upset; nor my heartbreak, but this was the closest I could come to telling Solas the truth. I was misleading him yet again, and eventually even this would be piled on the mountain of deceptions he would ultimately realize and piece together. Was he going to detest me more for this purposeful evasion, would he have viewed it with more understanding if I had simply kept my mouth shut and let him find out down the road? Everything felt as if I was digging myself deeper and deeper while racing ever closer to outright lies without a clear way out. And I was no longer so assured I could endure before it all came crashing down and I inevitably broke.

Greys, stormy and beautiful mutely study me. A slight frown forming between his brow before a voice low and pensive, intones, "ah...I might condemn you? Desert you for doing what you believe to be right?" Gently tears are wiped away as a small sigh brushes my face and I can't help the sense that perhaps I had disappointed him. "No. Under the circumstance, you are left with little alternative. There is no right answer, and sometimes there are only bad choices in which to choose. Every war has its costs, paid in sweat and blood. At its head, you will be forced to endure its weight. When the burden becomes too great, lean on those loyal to your cause but remember you lead."

Sniffling and issuing a watery giggle, "I can't stop myself from minding, I'm going to stress how my actions are taken." Wisely selecting my words and eliminating the distinction that it was solely him that could make me hesitate.

"I know. For everything I have said about power, I admire that undaunted conviction." Pride coloring his voice and easing the gravity of his expression while hands skim their way to lace with mine. "However might I offer a suggestion to your plan. Divide our forces." A hint of a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth when I feel my face scrunch in vehement refusal at what I am certain is going to be a disagreeable proposal before Solas continues with a lightened lilt, "our close company, necessary until now, have operated merely with the purpose of mobility in mind. The added stress of malnourished men to days across exposed desert will prove treacherous enough even without the addition of children and wounded filling their ranks. You will have to divert resources and maintain maneuverability if we are to reach Harding. An impossible feat unless concessions are made. More will survive if Dorian and I are left to tend the injured, traveling by measured means but it will ensure the greatest survival while the able-bodied press on. The hope is to buy time for your party to return with supplies."

My lips pinch in a pout, not enjoying the sound of splitting one bit. "Things'll be tough and we're going to have to tighten the belt, but yeah it'll work better than shoving everyone together. We'll let the others sleep for a few hours then let them know they're leaving first."

The slight smile widens and I'm pulled into a happy embrace as a short snorted chuckle animates Solas' expression. Recognizing immediately what I was about. "Those escorting the injured bear the most danger. You, _vhenan_ , are the only one who cannot be risked. There is also the matter of a looming army to consider." He bends, drawing me near to rest his forehead against my own. The warm brush of his nose and kiss of his breathe mingling with mine creating an intimate world for the just the both of us. "You can do without a pillow for a few nights." Light, teasing; so bloody unfairly charming with his flirtatious voice.             

 _Ugh! Damn the man and his reasonableness._ I think sourly.      


	77. Chapter 77

Because of Solas' suggestion and the awful change of plans; there was shit to do and people to quickly wrangle before I could rest and spend my time as I wished. Soon I wouldn't have the luxury of Solas' company and damn if I wasn't going to squeeze the most out of the short time I had between now and my group's departure.

The loftiest of goals in mind, I leave Solas to return to Dorian and perform one last pass around the medical awning alongside a promise to join me later in a nearby tent. Practically power-walking in my rush to track down companions, Scouts, and whichever self-important leader the laborers had.

Originally I intended to allow everyone to sleep first then spring the plan of our swift departure out of here but after speaking with Solas and having had a moment to contemplate logistics...I realized more forewarning was required if we were going to get these people out of here in a timely manner.

Locating and speaking to the team? Easy. Took me all of five minutes; although the fact I didn't really pause for breath and declaring whomever comes to bother me before tonight was getting stable duty for a month might have helped. Dealing with the scouts was simple enough too. Scout Baby Face happened to be close by -in no small part due to Iron Bull suspiciously lounging in plain view no doubt, and with a clipped, "Run and give this to Qin for me. Oh, and tell him he doesn't have to find me now." Practically toss Fairel's key in a walk-by and march to discover where the slaves were holding themselves up.

You'd assume it would be a straightforward 'find mystery leader and get them to assemble supplies for both groups' but no....No it had to turn into a weird, uncomfortable circus.

There were three main tents which the laborers had commandeered. Each gigantic and obscenely extravagant for canvases to be used out in the middle of a desert. It was here I decided to try my luck first, believing if their leader; or leaders, were somewhere, they would be there.

Striding to enter into the shade of the middle tent and pointing to the nearest figure playing cards, "who'd you appoint, where are they?"

Instead of a normal response of 'Fuck off, you rude asshole', 'I'm busy', 'I don't know', or hey, just an actual answer to my question; I received gasps chased by jubilant mutterings of my horrid titles. Granted it wasn't as if a crowd of people were doing it or anything, but it was enough that it was cringe-worthy. Especially when a handful chose the 'let's be creepy and pet Akira in awe' route.

"Yes, we're just going to touch the random stranger. Okay." Sighing and attempting to deflect wandering hands. "Pets. Pets. Peeeetttss." Dragging my palms over unfamiliar faces and hair, purposely imitating and exaggerating their actions to mess with them back when subtlety doesn't work. "Can someone please tell me who's in charge of you people?" Thankful that some seemed to get the hint and kept their hands to themselves now.

A laugh, robust and hearty issues from one of the men who had come to watch the odd scene. Shaking his head, he waves his arms at the several gathered and orders jovially, "Leave the poor girl alone, off with you. There's obviously business to take of if the Inquisitor has deemed to grace us with her esteemed presence." Effectively shooing away those devout few, although their stares remained.

Ignoring the curiosity, skepticism, and downright blatant scrutiny of the others idling within the tent, I turn to the newcomer. Doing a snap judgment and appraisal of the burly human who studied me right back, concluding that this was likely who I had come looking for.

Crossing my arms with a cock of my hip and meeting his dark gaze head on, "they yours?"

Blithely mimicking the stance right back, "if you mean, 'do I own them', then no. Elected spokesmen on the other hand..." The amused glint never leaving his eyes as he lets the words hang between us.

" _Hmm..._ " I hum, doing my best not to smirk. Bastard was cheeky, I might like these people after all. "Then you may like to know we're splitting into two groups. Injured along with anyone unable to march or ride, and everyone else. Able-bodied are expected to be ready to move out tomorrow with me, and my mage companions will ensure the safety of your wounded. That is of course, if you want Inquisition aid. Otherwise I see no reason for me and my men to linger here. You're free to make due on your own."

"Hoo..." Rocking on his heels for a moment, not appearing the least bit worried or surprised by the news. "Well, we certainly aren't in a position to argue or haggle. Do I get to ask why the hurry, or is this another non-negotiation?"

My eyes narrow but I retain the mellow air. This man wasn't an idiot, he knew the state of things here in the camp, there was no question in my mind about that. I was being tested. Why he believed he needed to do so or that I would care I had no clue. But I would go along with his game for the time being. Made for nicer travel that way.

"Supplies are severely limited and not conducive to the slow going required to get so many across open desert. Plus I don't think you'll want to be here when your captors return to retake their investments." Unable to resist smiling sweetly at the pointed reminder.

A single nod, as though it had been exactly what he wanted to hear and he drops his arms to settle into a more respectful position. Still cocky, but more respectful. "Alright then. What do you need from us, Inquisitor?"

"Spread the word, make sure your people gather anything they'll need. Essentials only, whatever they can carry. If you don't have a second, appoint someone your people trust. They will journey with the injured. Tonight I expect you, your second, and anyone else you think can help organize to meet with me and my men to solidify arrangements. Things are going to get hectic very fast so I suggest you get things underway now and rest while you can." Done, I was about to pivot away when I halt to ask, "Do you need anything?"

It was a silly question, we both knew it, but it causes him to humorously snort regardless. "You mean besides water, food, medicine -nearly everything vital to survival? Good people not to be suffering because they were in the wrong place? Nah...We are in as good a shape as can be expected, Inquisitor. Already been through the worst of it. We're a tough lot. We'll make due, you'll see."

Tipping my head in acknowledgement, I leave him to his business. Confident he would have those tasks completed before nightfall. However it wasn't until I had gone a fair distance from their tent that I realized I never even inquired about his name.

~

Drained, sweaty, and positively filthy from days upon days without a bath or even a semi-proper wipe-down; I was far from being sexy or seductive. But whelp, what did I care? Beggars can't be choosers.

Aside from our Fade rendezvous, I hadn't been given a chance to be alone with Solas since Griffon Keep. And since I made sure to Inquisitor the shit out of my 'to do' list, I was now blessedly free to do so. I deliberately mentioned a vacant out-of-the-way tent in which to meet for the day and there was no earthly way Solas hadn't caught on to my intentions. Poor man probably thought the both of us being dead tired would save him. And it might have until it was decided I would lose my Elven body pillow.

Eh...okay maybe I did care a little. Or a lot.

I mean it wasn't like I wanted the person I desired to crinkle their nose in disgust; or reluctance, instead of lust. However there came a point that I'd never get a shot to touch him if I didn't get over my delicate sensibilities. Thedas wasn't like the real world where I could shower regularly or at the very least 'freshen up' when needed. It sucked; and I still to this day hated it with a passion, but I'd have to embrace the stank and learn to deal if I wanted any fun lovey-dovey Solas time.

Resolutely planning to own the funk, I bravely fling the tent's flap out of the way; wondering as I did so if Solas had beaten me here. Hunting everyone down had taken longer than I anticipated but then again Solas did say he was going to perform a last round in the medical tent.

Gloom and the soft dimness of grey fills the modest space as faint rays of sunshine penetrate the canvas above. Blocking the worst of the unbearable heat to create an atmosphere of muted peace. Enticing one to relax within its shadows and let their woes gradually leech away. As I had briefly glimpsed in passing; stacks of miscellaneous gear and excess fittings swamp this little slice of solitude. Nonetheless it was perfect in my mind. Vibrant material was neatly folded and peeked from beneath tools, spare fabric for the tents if their color was anything to go by. Absolutely awesome for rigging an impromptu mattress.

Giddy for the fortuitous find, I move to set about constructing just that when the sand underfoot suddenly gleams upon entering. Muscles instantly tense, my body instinctively bracing for a vicious impact. Too stunned to realize I had unwittingly activated a glyph until long seconds of paralyzing fright elapse.

Comprehension sluggishly arrives as the panic ebbs and the roaring pound of my heart eases. Dumbly watching in spooked shock while the ward simply lethargically dulls into dormancy once more. Finally forming the mental connection that this was yet another of Solas' wards and not a trap set by the Venatori. Likely his precaution to secure our safety while we slept. But it seemed strange...

I couldn't see the elegant coils and almost artistic pattern any longer yet I remained staring where it had been despite that. The low thrum of energy was nearly imperceptible even though I stood directly on top of it. Much weaker than anything Solas had conjured before. And not merely that but the ward had an entirely different aura to it than all the previous ones that I had the poop-inducing pleasure of experiencing. My sole reason for distinguishing it now as Solas' magic was the whisper of inviting heat that accompanied each of his spells being present. Without it I would have questioned the caster's identity and motive for placing such a presumably worthless glyph. However Solas was never one to waste anything. Being as worn as he was, along with the peculiar sensation emanating from his spell, I assumed it was to serve more as an alarm for the caster than an actual deterrent.

Utterly incredible when I thought about it. So many countless ways to craft and use wards...Utterly staggering and terrifying.

 _Another tick in the gotta ask Solas column._ I muse as I shrug and get to work shifting and tugging material out of cover. Doing my best to shape and roll fabric into a lumpy twin sized bundle. When I finished it wasn't spectacular but it was serviceable; better than a creaky old cot or pebbly ground at least.

Exhausted from bodily shoving and handling heavy ass material, I happily let gravity take over and flop face-first onto my new bed for the day. " _uhh...sooo hot~_ "

Puffing a breath I roll enough to turn my head and look towards the tent's seam, wondering again where Solas was. He couldn't have strained himself until he fainted right? No, no that's absurd. Solas had priorities and self-sacrifice at this early stage in his mission wasn't one of them. The Inquisitor's safety and his unaccounted for orb were numero-uno; he wouldn't risk either one no matter how much he sympathized with an individual's plight. So what was he doing? I hope it wasn't changing bandages, quite a few had been soaked through-and-through when I was there but replacing them now would only cause greater loss of blood. Solas has lived through wars, he knew not to do it...

 _Nnrrugh..._ Mouth pinching in vexation while I glared at a still empty gap. _Damn it, they'll probably blame him if their family member dies even though they were going to croak anyway. UGH!_ Popping straight up with a snap and preparing to bring the thunder when a silhouette darkens the exit.

"I see you have been busy." Stooping slightly upon entering and stepping to deposit cumbersome saddlebags.

"I thought it would be more comfortable." I mumble distractedly. _Had he looked that worn-out when I left him?_ Silently observing Solas as equipment is dropped and his ever present staff is stowed within arm's reach. Following every inconsequential motion with concern. Absently scooting to make room for him as he sinks to join me with a fatigued sigh.

Tired as he clearly was, a quiet smile of contentment still touches the corners of his lips as he lays back with a shut of his eyes and a strong arm loops to hold me to his side. Rubbing small, soothing circles in a lazy caress as the toils and pressures of the day slowly seem to seep from his body.

I partially rise on a forearm, extending a hand to lightly trace handsome features no less beautiful for their weary lines. Struck anew by the good fortune or cosmic fluke that had enabled Solas to notice something about me worth loving. The whispers that it was only due to my role and not because of who I was always a constant in the distant edges of my mind, lurking and ever ready to pounce. Though I mercilessly crushed them now in order to live in this moment and not in futures yet written.

Desperately I wanted this man. The piece of my heart softly confiding that it would disastrously -exquisitely, forever be so an ever growing clamor that I was progressively losing the will to keep caging. It was a flaming brand consuming my soul that went far beyond the physical and lust. Something wholly new and unnamed that yearned to remain here as his shield and become his home.

Outlining giving lips gone lax in sleep, adoringly tracing features turned trustingly into the feather-light caress; the flame was ever closer to becoming an untamed inferno threatening to devour all else. Perhaps it was better Solas slumbered. A taste of his bewitching affection in this instant -no matter how badly desired, had the power to be devastating.

In self-preservation I continue my idle wandering. Allowing myself only this measure of indulgence lest I forget and tread a path of destruction without regret.

_Gods help Thedas if that happens..._

_God save me when it does._


	78. Chapter 78

" _Rugh!_ Shut it! It's just weird now. If it was gonna bother you so much, should've spent your time better."

" _hhuuhuuhuuu..._ it's not fair...." Wilting were I sat and clutching my bag miserably.

" _Ugh!"_ Throwing her hands up in disgust with a roll of her eyes and resolutely turning her back to my pitiful sulking to survey our 'cargo'.

As the sole protectors of this menagerie of walking monster bait, Sera and I had a duty to remain vigilant. The loss of either one of us would astronomically raise the odds of these people meeting a swift death, but I regretted it not one iota. It had been this or leave Solas in a position of unnecessary vulnerability. Faced with those choices, the decision had been immediate and nonnegotiable.

Was it only last night that everyone had gathered? Felt like an eternity ago.

I had been spot on about Aulus, the laborers appointed leader -yeah, remembered to ask his name this time. He had completed those tasks assigned to him and then some. By nightfall not only had the freedmen been informed about a speedy pullout, but Aulus had charged a few of his savvier members to tally serviceable wagons and every available mount. I had intended for that to be on the list of specifics to discuss, however Aulus had basically done the work for me. As a result; the single items on our agenda that night had been how to split the numbers and outlining a course of action for everyone to follow. And it was also here that things had become a little...heated.

Initially the proposed divide of teammates had been even, a warrior to have Dorian and Solas' back. Then none; we pair the most capable and healthy freedmen to watch over the second group, leave the warriors and Sera to protect the one person who couldn't be risked. The squishy; not so squishy anymore thank you very much, Inquisitor -i.e. me.

Yup. Whole lot of fu~ck that.

I was already being forced to go without Solas, to separate from him for an unknown period and travel without him; something I had never done. Then to listen to ideas of solely having one, then none, of our companions accompany the mages when the second party was supposedly the 'dangerous' one...When they would face the most hardship being slowed and journeying under the hope that the Inquisitor's party made it to Harding in time for supplies to meet them on-route...Yeah I was having none of that.

I had argued vehemently for each of them staying together, let no one accompany me and I see to the band of able-bodied myself. However that went as one might imagine and I had finally relinquished enough to hiss that I would only take Sera and that would be the end of it, there would be no more discussion. I was their Inquisitor and they would do as I commanded. Although my words might have been a bit less...polished. And there may or may not have been the added, 'if you don't like it, you can suck my mother-fuckin' balls'.

It was the first instance of showing a temper to my companions besides Solas, certainly the first speaking to them in anger. But goddamn it, I wanted that stubborn man safe and it had been the best way I could see to accomplish it.

Shittiest part of all? That jerk had been livid as hell. It was polite mask abound and he dared to give me Solas cold-sexy-face. We hadn't been intimate in what felt like forever and that turd-monkey threw that steamy insanity at me?! Nuh-uh. That was unnecessary and just hitting below the belt.

If he had believed I would let things be and be a good little Inquisitor and kindly aid in departure preparations, I had greatly disappointed him. Instead I tracked him down and unabashedly tugged him from his work to talk. In the beginning my pestering had simply been met with Solas' impenetrable wall of courtesy until I demanded that he speak to me if he was so mad. Otherwise this demeanor of civility was simply going to make me incredibly handsy, not apologetic.

Solas had not been a mood to find that cute.

Did I find them lacking in some way, not trust their capabilities? Had they given me a reason to question their competence? Or was it simply him that I did?

Oh, Solas had caught on immediately why I had quarreled so adamantly for a larger agent escort and did not fancy my reason one ounce. The fact I had lain so much significance on him while jeopardizing all else...it was neither sought nor desired. This situation in which I had rashly fostered upon them sat poorly.

I couldn't help it, what did he want from me? Was I supposed to turn a blind eye and ignore the enormous problems generated by the wounded slapping us in the teeth? Why would a group nearly the size of a god damn mob need more fighting strength? What, their arms were for show, was that it? Well, excuse me!

And wouldn't you know, that had not been found amusing either.

Say what I will, he was not foolish enough to miss the true motive behind my actions. Regardless, it was done. Friction was a distraction and a hindrance they could ill afford at the moment. They could speak of it again later. For now, it was important they prepare for the coming retreat. There was more than enough work to be done.

Fine, fair enough. How about a naughty fondling session first though?

A long sigh and 'no' was my prompt answer.

Ah, come on, please? What about a blow job then? He at least could let me get a blow job in!

Confusion, confusion is what I got at that. By the expression that instantly surfaced on Solas' face, the term was not part of Thedas' vocabulary. Lord...I would need to explain it.

There was a solid minute of gaping like a fish, much wordless opening and closing punctuated by wheezed syllables, and noises that just sounded to be garbled breathing. Huh. Turns out I could still get embarrassed from the shit that comes out of my own mouth. In the end, my brain had decided to resolve the issue by having me tactfully blurt, 'suck your dick!' in an overly loud voice.

Being swallowed by quicksand would have been nice at that moment.

I'm not certain what had been more mortifying; the booming yell or the mix of stunned incredulity, exasperation, and humor alighting Solas' face while he fought not to choke or laugh, or both. Either way, after a sputtered, 'Offer rescinded!', I had tried to spin away to beat a hasty escape. Only to be easily caught and drawn into a playful embrace.

Hard body firmly pressing along my spine; gentle heat had caressed my ear as Solas' chuckling inflection promised what I desired. They were sorely in need of a bath, and there were considerable tasks to oversee beforehand, but he would grant me free rein to have what I wished when they were no longer a concern. All the while the sizzling brush of his nose on the shell of my ear as it was seductively followed was a maddening distraction and motivator.

Except I was never given my promised opportunity.

Suddenly everyone had required the Inquisitor's input on even the most trivial of things. The night, then morning had dragged on. Coming and going in a whirl of activity that I had been unable to separate myself from. Each time I believed I spotted an opening to break away and seek Solas to make good on his pledge, someone would miraculously emerge seemingly out of nowhere to bog me down with more nonsense. Until finally even I had to admit defeat so I could nap for an hour prior to leaving.

So here I now found myself. Pouty and exceedingly salty in the midst of strangers. If I'd been given the gift of foresight and known I'd be denied the chance to grope Solas to my heart's content, I would've woken him consequences be damned. But no...had to be a pansy. _Bah!_

"Oy, yank the stick out, yeah? You're on first." Twisting slightly to look back and raise a brow at me.

Still draped dismally over my bag, "...I wanted to get him off first and was trying to be good, it's not fair..." I sourly mumble into the rough material.

Turning away with a muttered, "andraste's tits...", Sera gives up entirely and flatly proceeds to ignore me to seek some rest. Jerking the blanket from her pack in clear annoyance and tossing it over head to cover herself as she settles in for the day. Plainly conveying she was done with the rubbish and wanted to be left alone.

Grumpy and now unmistakably abandoned to my own devices, I survey my charges with a cranky eye. Taking in the meager shelter we had been fortunate enough to stumble across in this endless wasteland of nothingness. Contemplating if there was more that I should be doing or if it was best to limit my role to sentry only.

I had driven the group hard, forcing nearly all to walk with their respective gear and leave the horses to the burdensome essentials that would have hampered a normal individual's movement too much to be considered practical. The result had been a first night of utter grueling drudgery that was pushed well into the morning until only the sight of a small outcropping of boulders and the threat of dangerous temperatures made me halt. Primary concern was given to the mounts, corralling them beneath the paltry shade the rocks provided before allowing anyone to hunt for their own bit of cover or simply rigging tents in which to crowd under. From the cramped niche Sera and I had lumbered up to, I was able to observe our whole raggedy camp. Skimming over canvas' too pronounced against dreary landscape and the several souls who had managed to wedge themselves within the rocky shadows instead of enduring the tight, stuffy close-quarters arrangements.

Few ambled about, too weary and exhausted from the blazing sun and arduous pace that had been set -myself included. When the order came to march, many had believed I would be among the handful granted a horse. I had seen it on their faces, the distinctive resentment that was only natural in such circumstances. How funny it had been when I hefted my pack and began the trudge to Harding, their expressions of amazement and disbelief...Even more so when some started to lag or appeared that they wanted to dally because they had the misguided impression that the party would slow for them...How hilarious it had been when I declared any who couldn't, or wouldn't, keep up was to be left behind. That went double for me. If I failed to carry on and dragged the rest back, I was to be forsaken without a second thought. We didn't have the benefit of being soft, too many depended on our success.

I had found it amusing then, smiled about it even, however as the evening drew on it had worn on me so greatly it had become a test of will to put one boot in front of the other. Walking in such an unseeing stupor that there was more than once that I had bumbled into someone stomping beside me. My back ached so badly from hunching under the weight and shoulders had grown so tender from the pack's straps digging in that I honestly wasn't sure how I was going to make it in the days to come. Persistence was one thing but bodies had limits. I prayed I wasn't already reaching my own for I had spoken true when I said for them to abandon me. I was confident I would survive, didn't know how or what I would do, but I knew I would find a way no matter the cost. However the thought of being alone; more than I felt already, was daunting and terrifying.

Battling Giants, monsters, living people; it was frightening and strange yet adrenaline and the resolve to live got me through -or shoved me through in most cases. Nevertheless an element of assurance and at times even invulnerability, of strength, had always been present. Giving me the courage and boldness to stand and fight, secure in the knowledge that it was there and would see me through. Or it had once been.

Scary how much stock was put on one man.

Nervousness, anxiety; these had been abundant alongside the averse emotions that instantly gripped me when Solas was no longer going to be with me, yet I had understood and somewhat made peace with it. But now...now when he was gone and the comfort of having him within reach had vanished...it was petrifying.

The stressful feeling of being on edge, of being unsafe even as Sera -a companion whom I trusted with my life- lay mere inches from me; bombarded me to the point I was a jittery mess inside. Sensations of being trapped and fear; fear for no clear reason but was merely there crawling unchecked within my breast, hounded me until it made it impossible to relax despite the iron hold of fatigue infusing my limbs. It felt terrible and I desperately wanted it to stop. Though I was frustrated and pissed at experiencing these emotions with no grounding and no apparent purpose, they were being overwhelmed by whatever illogical instincts that had decided to take control. Depositing me in a shitty mental purgatory that I was powerless to do anything but stew in. Perhaps seeing Solas in the Fade would help, but that was hours away...

Unable to idly take it, "Sera, I'm taking a stroll. Going to walk the perimeter." Silence.

Sighing, I shrug and scoot to the ledge's rim. Gingerly climbing down to avoid taxing already spent muscles and hopping to avoid landing on a lounging couple. The camp was relatively quiet as I make my way to its outskirts. The low buzz of whispering chatter and shuffling layer the site in an almost depressing bleakness that I was unaccustomed to. On our dourest days, the space I shared with my teammates never even came close to this. Tired, drained, lackluster; but never cheerless. Maybe I was pushing too hard and asking for too much from these people, they were just regular folk after all. Then again, so was I. And there were men important to me counting on my triumph here, the speedier the better. I wouldn't let them down, I couldn't. If the price for that was these people's resentment, hell possibly even their hate, then I'd gladly pay it. Such things didn't bother or matter to me, I'd deal. Question was, would it get to that point? How much could I drive them before they chose to rebel or blatantly follow their own rules? We'd barely made it through a night and already the mood of the camp left a bad taste in my mouth.

_How quickly they forget the reason for our haste and temporary suffering. Out of sight, out of mind huh._

"...disgusting..." I growl acidly, too far for any to hear.

Well, so I had assumed.

"The view or the company?"

I halt, tipping my head to focus on the man who had tracked behind me without my notice. Observing the freedman's leader for a moment as he calmly strides to join me before replying, "I wasn't really paying attention to the scenery but now that you mention it, both."

"A harsh sentiment for someone sent by divine providence wouldn't you say?" Aulus comments conversationally. I hadn't minced my words and just as before, he didn't seemed fazed in the least. An odd guy to be sure. "You were patrolling, don't stop on my account." Gesturing for me to proceed him and taking a position at my side as he casually continues, "why the venom so soon from our dear benefactor?"

The scoff and sideways glance are automatic, surely I hadn't been the only one to witness and listen to the grumblings during our trek. "You just answered part of your question. It's early yet and already they're flagging, complaining about having to endure undue difficulty. That they've been through enough. Rejecting the cause for the urgency and the friends they've left behind. Shouldn't I sneer at that?"

" _Mhm._ " Aulus hums in acquiesce. "Can't really blame them though can you? We're human after all. With love and loyalty to those we care for. However when you're being beaten down and using everything you have to keep moving forward, it's only natural to vent a little and lament on your circumstance. I don't believe that detracts from the feelings you have for the people you're suffering for, it merely means you're human. You didn't mark anyone refusing to do as they were told, or fall out of line, did you? I think if you took the time to look, Inquisitor, you would see it for the facade it is and not judge so severely."

I remain quiet, silently treading sand as I mulled his view against my own. "Perhaps....or perhaps you give them greater credit then some deserve. You said yourself that they had been strangers until you were all thrown together. Actions and speeches you witnessed during captivity are too often born of necessity. Don't be surprised to find freedom changes people. You might not like their true faces, or be so willing to forgive."

Instead of offense or irritation, a grin spreads across his face and Aulus slants his gaze on me. "We shall see, Inquisitor. Only time will tell which of us is correct won't it?"

Snorting, "as you say." Not particularly expecting anything and certainly not holding my breath, but I didn't really need to mention that to him. Time _would_ tell, and I hoped I was proven wrong because I had promised. I had promised Solas I would get them across the desert and would return with aid.

I promised him...


	79. Chapter 79

Day three of Playing Hero, Jock Itch Edition: garbage.

Sand everywhere, getting into absolutely everything and causing the most horrific chafing imaginable. At this point I wasn't certain what was worse; the achy, sore, worn-out body or the spots being rubbed raw by constant friction and grit.

We'd had the super awesome pleasure of experiencing not one -but two!, sandstorms; something that was supposedly common here in the Wastes yet the team and I hadn't been subjected to one until now. Had to admit, nothing said 'best trip ever' than deafening winds blinding your vision and the threat of being buried alive. Greatest part is the paralyzing panic as you try to maintain a death grip on the cover that's the only thing keeping you from being suffocated by sand. And did I forget the lovely feeling of sand buffeting your blanketed body so hard it was like being socked repeatedly with an obscenely solid wiffle bat? Yeah...fun times.

Needless to say, the situation was going to shit in a hand-basket at record speeds.

There had yet to be a casualty or soul left behind, however not because there wasn't a single failure, but because we all were. Trudge as we might, stamina and strength was flagging and our pace was suffering in return. Frustration and anxiety gnawed at me; my mind demanding that I do better, that this wasn't nearly good enough and I should drive everyone harder. Thoughts that were as unreasonable as they were emotional and could have perhaps been brushed away if not for the greed of earlier.

Food and rations had already been divided and parceled out prior to our split from the main encampment. Making it the responsibility of the individual whether they would listen and stretch their portion of food to last as well as forcing them to carry their own supplies. I wasn't their mother and I definitely wasn't going to act like one taking care of every little thing for them. Water on the other hand, that was a different story.

Water was life. In the desert a drop of water was the tiny separation between living and dying. And I sure as fuck wasn't leaving that to chance.

Each person, children included, had been provided a waterskin. A waterskin only to be filled every other day. Meaning regardless of the harshness endured that night, every individual without exception was allotted half a canteen a day. A strict and maybe even overly excessive stipulation at first glance but considering our extreme circumstances and travel was conducted mostly by night in bitter cold, not a demented demand in the least. Being engulfed in a frigid chill, feeling its stinging bite across your skin until numbness finally takes its place; thirst becomes the furthest thing from one's mind. A far cry from drudging under a scorching sun where you would drink without thought and lose track of just how much had been consumed.

So I had loaded casks and our reserves on horseback, watching them but not quite attending to them as I perhaps should have. I had been lax and not particularly vigilant; more concerned with what could be about to jump out at us kamikaze style and getting to Harding. If I was honest, the idea that some might disregard the edict had crossed the back of my mind. However I waved it off as a useless worry that only happened in movies and books. And it was this childish attitude that had almost cost us quite dearly.

Morning and having called a halt for the impending day, both Sera and I had branched off to check our new surroundings. Paying little heed to our charges in lieu of focusing on what we perceived to be the larger issue of verifying it was a hostile-free location. Why halfway through I had the sudden urge to turn back and peek over the horses I don't know. But what I beheld upon my approach made me furious even now.

A handful of offenders -didn't matter their reasons, it was what they were for their shortsighted stupidity; stood filling bladders as more drifted to join them. Drawn by the mistaken belief it was permitted or maybe they might slip in unnoticed as well. Either way it was rapidly gathering a crowd and it was something that couldn't be allowed to progress any farther. Once one had their fill, what was to stop the rest from doing it too? We were already under rationed as I had made the choice of cutting a tad more off our supplies to give to the second party, having recognized the wounded would need and use more than healthy individuals.

I had gone to such lengths to inform those journeying with me, to get them to understand the necessity of it before doing it...yet I encounter this anyway...

What was I supposed to do? Spank them? Berate them? Truly there was little I _could_ do even though they had endangered every person not merely traveling with us, but waiting on our success. So I went with my gut and did what I deemed the only righteous course.

I denied all who partook from being allowed to refill their skins until the next cycle. A proclamation that immediately met with riled shouts and resistance.

'What about my son?!'

'If you do this, you're no better than the heartless butchers!'

'Twasn't deserved!'

'You may as well be sentencing us to death!'

My son, my daughter, my blah-blah-blah...

All excuses and all overly dramatic notions. Throwing them in my face as if I was the devil incarnate and doing such a heinous thing because I took delight from it. No, it most assuredly couldn't be because I needed to somehow even out the amount we had lost and ensure people fucking survived...

There was any number of comments I could have made; was positively brimming with a few snarky ones, however I kept them to myself. Merely settled on offering, 'Hope one of your neighbors is kind enough to share then.' and left it at that. They wanted a villain, well, they would get it. Whatever got us through, I didn't give a flying crap.

The situation may have escalated at that moment if not for Aulus making an appearance then. My deadpan suggestion of what they could do until next water day hadn't gone over very swimmingly. He'd broken it up with placating words and literally reiterating what I had gone through all the trouble of explaining to them nights ago. Concluding with a rousing pledge that they would see each other through this.

Wow. Just...wow.

I wasn't a drinker but after that ridiculousness, holy nutsack did I need booze. Gallons of it. To pile on the lousy and make matters cruddier, I hadn't caught a whiff of Solas in the Fade, somehow missing him each time or unable to achieve whatever spiritual wavelength that would allow me to find him. Come to think of it, Larry had been suspiciously absent from my dreams too. He was like a hound that never failed to sniff me out yet these past days, nothing. Weird, very weird.

Was the stress affecting my sleep? It was the only theory I could come up with that held a grain of possibility. Time passed so differently in the Fade, the sensation of hours passing instead a few scant seconds in the waking world...As fitful as my rest had been these last days, there was no telling how long I actually formed any kind of connection before I startled awake.

I wearily scrape a palm down my face, casting my gaze once more at the mass beside me. Seated in a slumped mess atop my gear I was nowhere near the image of an imposing figure however I was too tired to generate the illusion of steely fortitude. It was my rotation to sleep but Sera was performing a quick perimeter and one of us had to always be alert and watching the water thanks to the idiocy from before. It saddled the both of us with greater uncalled-for burdens and guaranteed a punishing uphill struggle but we had no other choice. In earnest, I trusted none of those gathered not to rashly endanger us again, so all that was left for us was Sera and myself to take up the slack.

 _We'll see my foot, Aulus!_ Wishing their smug leader was here so I could promptly punt him.

~

Day four of Playing Hero, Drop'em and Ask if This Looks Normal Edition: I have officially seen too many butts and scrotums.

I'm a mage, I _must_ know about illnesses and healing! Cue men dropping trou and several ladies lifting skirt.

_Sigh._

Pretty sure I am now scarred for life.

~

Day six -seven?, of Playing Hero Blows Ass, Did We Make it? Edition: Please God be it, I can't handle any more.

The concern of our physical state was a distant memory that didn't compute at this point. We had well and truly climbed the hump of being fully cognizant and giving a shit. Ranges of vague familiarity were towering in the horizon and I couldn't even muster the excitement it warranted. There had simply been too much avarice and betrayal for any sort of victory to take root.

While most slept, small groups had come forward to petition mounts so they might leave and find their own way. They weren't prisoners or slaves, they were free to come and go as they pleased. They could take their due and I wouldn't stop them. However if they attempted to touch Bucket or the water reserves, they would learn why the Inquisitor didn't need to be guarded by an army.

Ah, how readily they agreed.

As I silently regarded their departure, a niggling sense of unease had crept in and stayed with me long after they'd gone. It wasn't until hours later when the camp roused for the night that I would come to know why.

Skins, precious and freshly filled, were missing.

While the last of our water was parceled and bladders were now being assigned to pairs, I did what I hadn't cared too before. I asked about them, their story and their lives before it had been torn apart by the Venatori. I came to realize only those with family or unwavering loves and friendships with members in the second party remained. By nightfall's end I had a picture of the souls still with me, and the ones who had cowardly stolen.

Those...those I burned into memory. The complainers, the shirkers, the selfish offenders; they had all been a part of the band who had treacherously departed under a guise of amiability. They had caused me to suffer unduly -continued to increase it even now, and they had made a naive fool of me. Those individuals were now marked and if the day should come I saw them again, I _would_ have my vengeance.

I said nothing to Aulus and he in turn said naught to me. The situation spoke for itself without a petty 'I told you so', and it was probably good he didn't try to engage me. My tolerance and pity had all but dwindled to nonexistence during this experience. A pep talk about faith in people and sympathy to the downtrodden wouldn't be received with the most charitable of moods right now.

_We're close, we've seen those mountains before I'm certain of it. We're almost there...just a little more..._

Staring at the slopes so mockingly near and within view yet may as well be an ocean away with the shape we were in. This was it, this was the end. When the sun set; shit, maybe even before that, we would make our last push. I would drive these people during the day if I have too, I had to get us to Harding, instincts were shouting I was rapidly running out of time.

The crunch of stone, a shifting of sand underfoot; noise slight and soft but hauls me from my apprehensive reveries nevertheless. I twist to peer behind, relaxed and uninterested. Unsuspecting of the violent wrench that forces my skull back with a brutal snap, of the sudden view of clouds lazily floating by. The split second sensation of something wet swiping down the side of my jaw and neck might have registered but there's only the feeling of a warm stickiness streaking across my skin.

What was happening? Disoriented, stunned; no time to process or to identify a haze, crimson and muted glowing in my periphery. A disconcerting rosy hue already gradually fading as arms gone laden and unresponsive rise with herculean effort to the thing gripping me. Fear slithering its way in while paralysis, total and terrifying, latched itself to every muscle. Perceiving enough to propel the panic higher as it was all I could do to lift trembling fingers to the fist in my hair.

Abruptly the grasp vanishes with a hissed, " _Kaffar!_ ". But it was only so it could wrest better control and seize me in a spinal lock instead. "Moving? You really are a monster. A gift endowed by Andraste to her 'Herald', eh?" Regaining the composure to humorlessly taunt.

Lips pull back in an enraged snarl as I strain just to weakly brush a burly forearm, wishing I could tear them apart with my bare hands. "you?!! i'm going to fucking kill you. what did you do?"

"Poorly implemented Blood magic by this outcome." Grinning sadly at the jest before continuing flatly, "I'm sorry, I planned to make this painless. I didn't expect for it to fail. Though as your magic is neutralized, I suppose I should be grateful for that small mercy at least." Aulus confides regretfully.

He...was right. Nightmarishly right.

Wanting; trying, to desperately fight against the physical prison he'd snared me in as surely as the mystical one. He was hoisting me higher, carting me backwards. Indifferent to toes partly dragging and leaving faint scores in the sand in his quest to dispose of me in seclusion. The magic I had come to rely on gratingly close yet inaccessible. Like being a spectator in an aquarium trapped behind glass, unable to do anything but powerlessly watch. The Fade, magic, it was there waiting yet unable to 'see' the me who pleadingly called to it. Unable to recognize my plight.

 _Here! I'm here!_ Pounding against the barrier, unwilling to surrender. Unwilling for it all to amount to this. Conscious of the futility of unheard screams resonating within a desolate cage, of strikes recoiling without the slightest ripple of effect, but incapable of capitulating and allowing for this to be it. Uncaring of the pressure steadily building at my struggles and the feeling as if it was crushing my skull. Uncaring of the mounting _thrump...thrump..._ pulsating an agonizing beat within my palm, of the searing heat burning against my throat.

The clasp had changed, Aulus no longer held me as securely as he once did. A grasp simple enough to slip from without effort if I was whole, a grasp temperately difficult if I was frail...A grasp impossible to escape as I was. He would tighten and compress the moment I began to lethargically angle into position. There were too many motions to synchronize and flow through, it wasn't feasible in this pathetic curbed state. However there was something...something I could still do. Aulus had unknowingly provided one unconventional alternative, requiring minimal coordination on my part except a spontaneous burst of energy. But to seriously consider doing it...

Breaths unconsciously escalating, body noticeably tensing in preparation; they alerted him of the imminent attempt, however even as limbs reflexively constrict to ensure control, it was already too late. My cry of pain is mirrored by Aulus' shocked curse as the distinctive _pop!_ of a dislocation gruesomely sounds. Wasting none of his startlement as I went against what was natural, using his strength and hold's promise of harm to further create slack. Fully unhinging my trapped shoulder and having gravity do the rest while I crumpled in complete and sudden deadweight. Effectively sliding from his astounded embrace to jarringly collapse on the ground.

"Maferath's-!" With a calming puff, he wipes hands down his face in clear irritation and glares down at me. "Why are you determined to make this worse for you, you blasted woman?" Emitting an annoyed sigh before squatting to bundle my ankles and drag me closer.

Hostile growls erupt; incensed that it may have been for naught, afraid that this was as far as my resolve would take me. Tasting the bitter tang of iron as the thick pungent scent of blood overwhelms my senses. Feeling warmth freely trickling over lips and the ticklish itch of drops beading down my chin as I hammer an immutable wall. Enduring the excruciating vise bearing down on my skull as I fruitlessly command magic to come. Striving to squirm listless limbs from Aulus' grasp, curling into myself the best I could to cradle a now useless arm. Feebly pushing in laughable kicks at brawny legs straddling me, snarling my rancor while large palms pull me to sit.

 _Come! Goddamn it come now! Fuck! FUCK!!_ Shrieking my fury.

Intense heat and power the likes of which I have never experienced sunders the air, exploding in a dusky sphere of green as if being forcibly ripped from my hand. Distorting my tortured scream at the impression of sensitive flesh rending apart as Aulus is callously torn from me and flung away. Sending me crashing face-first to the sand in a lame heap, miserably dry heaving and spent.

Through a sheen of tears I grind my forehead to the earth, tipping to look for the man who wished me harm. Spotting the hulking frame inside clouds of dust and already lumbering to their feet, dazed yet relatively uninjured from a guideless blast wielding more roar than bite. Helpless to do more than lay in an expanding pool of bile and blood as my fate takes staggering steps before pivoting to search and fixate on me.

_thrump...thrump..._

Its wretched throb, its swelling drum, utterly lost within a symphony of suffering. The erratic crackle and snap of the anchor nothing but a distant echo to a mind drowning in pain and spite, beginning to struggle for revenge rather than life while lurching footfalls approach ever closer.

"Down or eat it!" The shout rings out at the same instant there's a sharp whistle of an arrow loosing and its subsequent hollow _thunk_ as it menacingly lodges in the sand at Aulus's feet. "Next one's for pluggin' arseholes." Drawing her string taut for emphasis and unflinchingly training her arrow's steel head straight for his face.

"..ine...he's...mine, Sera..." I venomously wheeze between retches. Finding it hard to speak or even breathe through my mouth from all the blood and spittle but determined nonetheless. He was mine. I would discover the reason behind his betrayal and then...

Then I would make him fucking pay. 


	80. Chapter 80

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY!

Unimaginable agony radiated from the Anchor, like a rod had been sadistically thrust completely along the length of my left arm. To the point I had woozily peered down with the full expectation that I had lost it and would discover only a disintegrating stump remained. Witnessing instead discolored veins of green peeking out from the tops of my gloves, snaking beneath the skin. The blend of stunned terror and confusion generated at its sight one of many emotions vying for prominence while I dragged myself up to sit in slumped misery across from the despondent figure of Aulus quietly kneeling.

Weakly I tuck a viciously vibrating palm against my chest alongside an equally useless right arm, hunching in on myself in a bid to alleviate a margin of the pain as I stare at the man with calm acceptance on his face. Seemingly indifferent to the punishment now awaiting him and arrow still readily poised to end him if he should move while he met the incensed scrutiny head on.

That expression...gods that expression enraged me.

It was the same expression Alexius had worn upon his defeat and subsequent apprehension. That same hateful look after his actions had cost the lives of precious comrades. To see it again on Aulus filled me such fury I had to take a second to steady myself lest I turn to violence without ever hearing his account. Though it wouldn't lessen the loathing I now held, I would listen to what he had to say.

Licking the grit and blood from sandy lips before spitting to clear my mouth, I demand only one thing, "why, why kill me?"

Aulus shakes his head sadly, tone flat and melancholy as he softly attests, "It was never the intent to murder you, Inquisitor. If I wanted to do so, there was ample opportunity before now with much lower risk. I needed to get you away. I wai-"

"is that Bucket?..." I interrupt with a hiss. Motherfucker had nabbed my horse! I hadn't noticed when I'd thrown Aulus that he'd been lugging me to a mount; much less my own goddamn mount. Oh, now it was definitely on... No one touched my sweet Bucket!

Never wavering from her target, "it's a smelly horse." Sera states dryly before continuing with a mocking sneer, "so, what? You play up for a little romantic chat is that it? Get off!" She scoffs. "As if we'd believe that piss."

"Whether you believe me or not, it is the truth that I didn't wish to harm the Inquisitor." Shifting dark eyes to solemnly return to me, "Or anyone if it could be avoided. It was why I waited as long as I could. Your Scouts are within reach, everyone will make it because of you. Losing you now when they're so close won't doom the souls still unaccounted for."

"ah, well, isn't that very considerate of you." Snorting my sarcasm before having to pause to cough and spit blood that had collected. "and why did I get treated to your courtesy?"

The dim fire of life in his gaze evaporates and their somber light casts to the sand, refusing to look at me. "...Because I had no choice." He says simply.

Lids narrow, boring into the man bent in dismal submission, not accepting that as an answer. _No choice? No choice?! There was always a choice!_ Denying Aulus his desire for an easy out and letting that be the last of it by maintaining my silence. He wanted to merely offer a flimsy excuse but I wouldn't settle for such a thing. He could wallow in his self-pity for hours if he wished but I wouldn't budge.

Harsh huffs and great gasping breathes drift from the tiny gulch we'd located before several laborers suddenly crest the dune in a rush. Their looks of fear twisting to that of nervous incredulity when they get their first gander of the scene they'd stumbled upon.

"We don't understand..."

"Aulus?"

"Wha-?"

Sera takes hasty side-steps to include our brave new bystanders in her field of view as eyes automatically zip to me for guidance before those sparks of question are promptly snuffed out. Visages of fear suffuse their countenances once more, driving some to flee with cries of _demon!_ while others oddly collapsed with panicked pleas where they stood.

"Maker preserve us!"

"Andraste's mercy!"

"Forgiveness!"

"Please! By Andraste's blessing!"

What the balls? Sure I was bloody from the monster nosebleed, I could feel its mess smeared down my front, and okay, it probably looked nasty with the bile and clumps of muddy sand sticking to me. And perhaps the sensation of dying didn't help with my appearance either, but yeesh...Come on, I didn't deserve that kind of reaction.

I would have felt offended if not for Sera finally slipping her focus from Aulus for a moment to comment, "What giv..." before faltering and her big greys dilate with intense unease. "Arse shits! Lav...Lavellan you're still you, yeah?" Her skittering gaze torn between staying on Aulus and myself.

It was a name Sera never used. Not once. That she did so now was disturbing and ratcheted my emotions from bewilderment to downright dread. What the hell had happened to me?

"i'm me, Sera, no need to whip the 'Lavellan' nonsense out. just sounds all sorts of wrong coming from you." But more than that, the incessant mutterings were worse and plain spooky. "and for fuck's sake, will you people stop?! it's weird. we simply had an issue with your leader Mr. Shifty-Bottoms, so chill your tits." Wondering just how bad I must actually look to not only cause Sera to freak out but these people too.

Sera's attention more or less settled back on Aulus, my response presumably having been to her satisfaction. Though the unmistakable glint of anxiety was there, her single tell that she hadn't been able to completely shake all of her discomfort. "Then maybe stop that eerie eyes shite, Inky. It's creepy, like _really_ creepy. That glowy business with your hand is bad enough."

_Ah, so that was it..._

I didn't know what the cause was, or how to even make it stop -I mean, I hadn't even been aware I was doing anything besides drool and leak everywhere. So it wasn't as if I could give anything to make the situation better. Best route to take in this instance? Elect to fib with a little white-lie. Because if there was one thing I did know, it was don't get the antsy person with an extreme magic phobia _more_ jittery. Especially when armed and primed.

Plastering a wan smile to reassure her, "sorry, Sera. I can't help it, it's a mage thing." before wiping the traces of kindness from my face to level on Aulus mutely observing the exchange. "release it. dispel its hold, now."

Too many moving parts and curious eyes were gathering thanks to this poopstorm; staying down like a decrepit invalid until his spell passed wasn't an option at this point. Plus, well, Christ, this must be what molten metal feels like being poured on naked skin. Maybe it would have been milder if Aulus had chosen a less vulnerable spot or somewhere the flesh wasn't so thin, but holy crackers! _Oww!_

I was coming to have newfound understanding of why blood magic was so vilified by the masses. Having to suffer a harrowing burn while an unknown spell is smeared upon your skin, of having to endure a pulverizing migraine while your autonomy and motor functions are all stripped away... It was a crueler tool to subjugate one's enemy than a spell fueled by the Fade. That Aulus had the gall of utter _'I meant no harm'_ after using such an agonizing method...Oh yes, he had much to answer for.             

~

Wordlessly I watch Aulus. Refusing him the luxury of getting a moments peace from the eagle-eyed glare as I sit absently stroking the sling Sera had rigged for me. Feeling regret for the young girl who had been forced to learn such skills as setting an arm and livid at the man who had stoically allowed himself to be restrained while memories of the past briefly haunted a woman grown as she tended me. Gruff deflections of 'seeing things when you're on the streets', doesn't hide as much as one might wish and by the obstinate rebellion written on her face, Sera knew it too. However I let it go and wouldn't pry, there are some things that no one had the right to scratch.

His plans foiled and schemes ruined, Aulus had honored my demand. Breaking the vicious stranglehold his magic had over me. With its dispersal and Sera's treatment, my condition had much improved to Sera's great relief. As the sweltering inferno had extinguished, so too had the strange light infusing my irises. Only a tender sear remained as a painful reminder on my throat while the potency of the vise yet pressing against my skull had diluted until its debilitating bite was gone. An echoing throb in my right shoulder was effortlessly ignorable compared to the piercing weight rolling from the anchor. Its persistent strum lingering still and no less fierce from time having passed.

But it was all negligible wasn't it? Other than the disturbing events surrounding the anchor, the rest would straighten themselves out with the passage of time. Unlike the anchor...ah the anchor was another matter. Yet there was nothing to be done without its true owner present and I cursed anew the man who had driven me to such ends.

"A life spent in the Imperium..." Words soft and distant. At last shattering the unpleasant silence as eyes blankly stare at the ground at his feet. "...and never have stories of blood failing to bind been whispered...a Saint's mark...is this penance for my crimes? Doomed them...doomed them..." I quirk a brow at Sera standing nearby, baffled as much as she by Aulus' low murmurs on the verge of seeming insane. "...Is it real then?" Finally lifting his gaze to sadly meet mine. "A messenger sent from the Heaven's, sent to lead us? And I...I would violate Heaven's will with my actions...The mark of Andraste raged at my sacrilege, have I committed a sin in which I cannot be forgiven? Please...please understand...I thought it would save them...I didn't realize...I didn't believe..." Entreating; beseeching, that I understand.

And by the Gods did it fill me with bitterness. "You have no right to question me. _'No choice'_ isn't good enough...not nearly good enough." Tightly balling a fist, ruthlessly squeezing the Anchor despite the sharp jabs the act caused. _You have no idea what you've done._

Lips part to speak only to slowly shut again, "I--Yes you're right." Aulus intones gently before falling silent once more and returning his attention to the sand.

"That's it? Nothing?! Nothing to say for yourself?!!" Rising to my feet in a flash, ready to beat him as I should have done minutes ago but Sera's quick grasp of my elbow halts me. _"Tche!"_ Throwing off the staying hold before spinning on my heel to march away.

~

I was supposed to be sleeping, we were setting out in a few hours but I found I just couldn't. Aulus' life was spared for now merely because we were too close to getting through this in one piece to chance ruining it by upsetting the freedmen further with their leader's execution. Didn't mean I couldn't pummel the crap out of him to get my answers though.

Propped against my gear to ease the soreness in my shoulder, I wiggle from the nest I'd fashioned to creep over to Aulus' bent form slumbering scant meters from me. Except as I draw close eyes open and serenely rest on me; he hadn't been napping after all.

Crouching directly in his personal space, directly in range of a surprise shove or stray boot. Boldly crowding his person so he couldn't discount me so casually. "You owe me a reason Aulus."

"What would it change, Inquisitor?" He morosely challenges.

"Nothing."

A reserved hush falls between us; abiding for so long I believed Aulus would remain mute until a name ultimately spills forth, "Messala." It appeared that would be it. That this lonely, meaningless name would be all that I was given. However after a tense moment he continued, "it's not a noble name, or even an important one....but it's a good name." He sighs; as if trying to expel the weight of a world off his shoulders and peers down at wrists firmly tied, twisting them so he could study heavily callused palms. "We were _Soporati_ , a title I never begrudged but was never satisfied with either." A short self-deprecating snort rocks him and he smirks hollowly. "Funny isn't it? Having happiness but always wishing for more, never content with your lot...funny isn't it...how very funny..." Sounding lost and far away with a country he would never see again. Fingers lightly lock and he looks up then, the remorse laying within their dark pools pinning me in place.

"There was an incident one day with a group of slaves, I remember the smell of brimstone and the tang of energy as their show of independence was brutally squashed. It was the day I became what I had only dreamed of...a _Praeteri_ within the esteemed _Laetans_. Magic, so very coveted and precious had bloomed and now I had the right to join the ranks of the most dignified of our society, and in so doing, elevate my family as well. But when I sought to lay claim to what I believed was my due, I was mocked. Turns out my potential is best described as laughable." Smiling faintly at his own attempt at humor before it swiftly fades and the shadows of the past take him again. "I was so lacking there was actually a tribunal to decide whether I should be allowed to enter the _Laetan_ class. I thought for certain I would be denied, was prepared to console my wife after she had become so overjoyed at the prospect. Then wouldn't you know, an _Altus_ spoke in my favor. An _Altus_ , could you imagine? Someone so far above the rest of us had seen _me_ and deemed me worthy. I should have realized it was a different kind of worth he witnessed in me." The snarl crossing Aulus' features the first display of riled emotions I had seen in him.

"He used me as a pawn in a failed coup against a rival _Altus_ and I was arrested. At my trial the blame was lain all at my feet and I was found guilty of a crime I took no part in. As a citizen of the _Laetan_ class, I was given leniency... _tsk_ leniency...Their 'leniency' was to sentence my family and I to ten years _servus publicus._ To be beholden to the same whoreson who'd falsely tarnished our lives. Oh how he had snickered as he accepted his newest slaves into his household...how he'd cackled when he tossed me to these butchers in the hopes I would perish and take the knowledge of his sins with me..." He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply for composure and exhaling in a gradual puff before swallowing and bringing himself to look at me. "What I have done to you, Inquisitor, is grievous. The only excuse I can offer is I did it in the misguided hope of saving my family. The Imperium may take a public stance against Corypheus and his Venatori cultists, however you must know that many powerful officials have been swayed to his cause. I intended to use you to bargain for my family's freedom. I had no desire to harm you, Inquisitor, no one deserves suffering after reaching out their hand to help. I just...I just needed to save my family the only way I knew how." He finishes emptily; like he couldn't stand to keep going, as if all the spirit he had was depleted.

"No harm..." Parroting his words back to him as I crouched there seemingly in a daze. _No harm..._ Playing the sentence over and over again in my mind, churning the flowery platitudes that they were over in my head. "How naive you are..." I blandly mumble.

A being aspiring to Godhood challenged by a nobody. By a small mortal who was garnering followers as though _they_ were the god...As if they were the god that the being so desperately desired to be. To give that same being the creature that was stealing their title of godhood, the very mortal that was amassing an army and very visibly opposing them? No...no, subtlety and quick mercy was no longer in the cards. To be captured by the Venatori and presented to Corypheus meant a very public, and very agonizing, death. A show was necessary. There was no other way to reclaim what was lost and depose the mortal who had become a beacon of divine power to the people of Thedas. And Aulus dared to subject me to such a fate with the justification 'he didn't wish to harm me', that he didn't know that would happen? His family, it was all for the sake of his family...

I believed Aulus told the truth when he alleged it was his family's freedom that drove him; and under the circumstances I would have attempted the same, consequences be damned. But he wasn't me, it wasn't my family in peril was it? Instead I was on the receiving end where the outcome would likely be a nightmare that had me screaming for death for days. Where I could now sympathize with his plight, I wasn't sure if I could forgive. The harm already inflicted and the overwhelming potential harm that had nearly come to pass was too great.

A paltry smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as Aulus observes me, likely sensing the direction of my thoughts. "Did it change anything, Inquisitor?" The look in his eyes telling me he already knew the answer.

Quietly I stare at the broken man calmly sitting in acceptance, coming to my conclusion and only able to morosely give, "no."


	81. Chapter 81

Canvases, tarnished and so faded their once vibrant crimson had dulled to pale hues lay within sight. Nestled in the protective shadow of a mountain's sheer cliff and but a short march up the Waste's steep valley trail. So blessedly near... and so dreadfully so.

Silently I watch Sera lead a band of bone-weary wretched souls to their salvation, letting a sense of steely serenity wash over me as I prepared for what I must now do. Loath to pull my gaze from the departing backs to slowly settle on the resigned figure knelt at my side.

"Are you ready?" I ask softly.

Pools of dark color move to me, stoic peace and strength swimming in their depths as Aulus regally nods. "I am." I turn fully to face him, sickened and not as assured in my path as I stand before a man condemned. Hesitating. Wrists bound and tied rise, twisting to pleadingly hover between us as a fraction of the composure slips. "Inquisitor, I ask -I pray, that you will save my family. As a last and final wish to the Maker, I ask that you save them." He gently implores.

"You said yourself...'sent from the Heaven's'." I mournfully profess. "Gods don't listen to the pleas of mortals." Palms spread in entreaty reluctantly fall as the small spark of hope that briefly flared in his eyes gradually dies. I look down at the man with pity, ready and taking no solace with what was to come. Magic threads and weaves in a playful dance over my fingertips, seamlessly gathering as I offer one last bit of compassion to a man who had gambled and lost everything. "Think of them now. Perhaps your Gods will show mercy and allow you to see each other once more in the afterlife."

Lids slowly shut and Aulus tips his chin to the sky, in prayer or remembrance I knew not. Patiently I stand, poised and waiting until the furrow smoothed from his brow and an expression of tranquility bathed his face before delivering his end.

I remain rooted in place as the lifeless body falls and the stain of blood spreads across the sand. Feeling numb and none of the satisfaction of having done my 'duty'. If anything, past the numbness I felt regret and disgust at my actions for the first time in my life.

A life taken not in the heat of battle nor for the sake of myself or in the defense of another, but for a _title_.

The fury, the anger; so much of the bitterness had dissipated with the passage of time and Aulus' confession. They were emotions that had always been the hardest for me to hold onto, being too lazy to invest in the draining parasite that they are. In his resolve and motives I saw a reflection of my own, and though I couldn't forgive and forget, I sympathized. I understood.

Christ, did I understand.

Send him on his way, let him risk the Wastes alone, let luck decide his fate; sentence him to labor once more; imprisonment. Each had been my desire as we trekked ever closer to Harding, yet the wishes of an indifferent woman were immaterial. There had been witnesses, the hushed whispers had begun, the story would spread. Andraste's 'chosen'; their 'mighty Inquisitor', had been betrayed and assailed with blood magic. Her life threatened for an unclear purpose but they would doubtless find some fantastical way in which to spin it.

Crimes perceived as inexcusable and heinous, demanding of the harshest of punishments. Ones I would wave away without a backwards glance if not for the title I bore. It compelled that I protect it lest I give others the notion such deeds were condoned --and by everything that is holy, it made the whole of my being instantly rebel at the idea. Fuck the vile title and all it represented, it could be disgraced and savagely ruined until it was nothing but a thing of ridicule. However it would be nine individuals who took the brunt of the consequences of my choice, not myself due to some absurd sense of obligation. Could I, in good conscience foster greater danger on them merely because I detested a role and everything it entitled?

I'd made my decision, and now I felt its taint marring my soul as surely as the blood upon the sand. I had done what I had vowed never to do, I allowed duty and a position to dictate my actions. And the sense of loss and revulsion at its revelation was nauseating. I wanted to run, to rage...I wanted to seek a safe-harbor. To have strong arms hold me, for bewitching greys to look at me with love and tell me I had made the right choice.   

_Why...why aren't you here?_

Gritting my teeth as I covered my eyes with the Anchor, fighting to remain resolute against a world determined to tow me under.

~

Three figures stood waiting, quietly observing my approach while a camp of countless others flittered about in a flurry of activity behind them. Expressions of empathy and careful neutrality painting their faces as they passively looked on at their Inquisitor austerely leaving the scene of her 'justice'. Bringing an intense punch of defiance at their reception, wishing for anything besides acceptance and compassion for having simply performed what was 'necessary' to suffuse their faces. Wishing that such a choice of responsibility was instead greeted with the contempt it warranted. This foul name of 'Inquisitor'...

"Charter," I voice solemnly when I draw near, giving none present time to speak. "send men down to burn the body with the proper rites. And Tessa and Marius...I want them pulled from whatever operation they're doing."

Eyes widen in surprise, "Inquisitor?" her mask of impartiality sliding for a moment at my knowledge of personages I was likely supposed to be ignorant of before it's quickly restored. "Yes, my Lady. Where would you have them?"

"Tevinter." The instant shock and contention lighting Charter's eyes at my sudden command is mirrored by the confusion coloring Harding's and Sera's. However whatever she saw in my gaze as I tilt my chin at her expression has Charter pausing and remaining silent until I finished. "They know it best, I want them to get in unseen and deliver these people to Denerim." Handing poorly scribbled notes from the day before to her. "They're slaves within an _Altus_ household who has ties to the Venatori. If the opportunity presents itself, I want that _Altus_ dead. Everything Tessa and Marius need to know is there-" Inclining my head to the letter Charter now held, "-if they're captured or seen, the Inquisition does not know them. They are on their own. Make sure they understand what I'm asking, Scout Charter."

I hadn't taken the time to painstakingly write with an unaccustomed left hand for the sake of amends or some sense of misguided redemption. No, it had nothing to do with justice or freedom. It had to do with striving to cleanse the taint of having perverted my integrity for something as worthless as a title. If retribution was sought for my actions this day, I would accept it as their due. I would allow them their shot at vengeance without prejudice and let them escape without reprisal when they failed. I would never willingly permit them to succeed but at least with this, they would know the comfort having tried and the leeway to fight until the sorrow of a loved one's loss finally became a piece they could endure. This...this was the only thing I knew how to offer them.

"I--yes, Inquisitor." Staring down at the damning thing in her grasp, a crease of contemplation crinkling her brow as she absently rubbed her thumb over thick parchment.

"Your Worship..." Harding ventures; sounding reluctant with features skewed in uncertainty and advances a step to bring herself forward. "Mistress Se- Sera." Swiftly correcting herself when the woman in question blows an irked raspberry. "Told us of the dire affairs surrounding the other Agents, we're scrambling to ready supplies for them now. It's not much but it'll get them through -certainly better than having to eat lizard. Ah, not that they're to that point I'm sure..ah... _Ahem._ Sorry." Harding mumbles with a shy chuckle, unconsciously shuffling her feet as she did so.

 _Oh good ol' Harding..._ I think with a grin, feeling a margin of the tension dwindling at her awkward joke. "I hope not. It wouldn't be fair if I miss the face Dorian makes when he's told to munch on lizard's feet."

"That would be pretty great to see." She confesses, returning my smile. "There...is one thing, Inquisitor, and I'm positive you won't like it." Adjusting her shoulders to straighten her spine decisively and puffing a stalwart breath, "Here goes...Sister Nightingale gave word that the Venatori have been reinforcing themselves in the area since our interference began here, marking the Hissing Wastes as a particularly risky place for you to be roaming, your Grace. As your army is nearing Adamant and preparations must be attended too, she believes it wise for you to make your way back at once while it is still relatively safe to do so."

Undeniably we had been away longer than the two weeks we had originally intended, I wasn't thrown in the least by the nudge from Leliana for us to promptly get our asses out of here. Agreeably I nod, absolutely stoked to be free of this desert. "Let's get these supplies out and get my guys."

"Well...not quite, Inquisitor..." The sheepishness coming back full force and hinting that whatever was coming next was the true news that I wouldn't like. "It wasn't exactly phrased as a suggestion...More like a stern instruction. Or command -it was a command. Sorry, your Worship." Shrugging hopelessly at the crappy position she'd been placed in.

 _Oh really?_ I _was being commanded was I?_ Lips part to inform Harding just where Leliana's 'instructions' could go when I freeze and snap them shut once more. _Ugh...this is one of those things isn't it?..._ Feeling my face scrunch with avid aversion while I mutely stand, appearing as if I was still regarding Harding when my mind was instead elsewhere. _If I do what I want, Solas is going to give me that look again isn't he? Balls...But I'd be staying because I want to make sure everyone is okay, he wouldn't hold that against me right? But then again 'responsibility of the many and not the few'...._ Furrow wrinkling my forehead as a noise somewhere between a torn groan and hum rumbles from my throat. Causing my audience to share perplexed shakes with one another at the behavior. _And then there's Adamant... It won't happen without the Inquisitor right? But that's just the battle...What provokes the rift for Nightmare -shit, is it a Hail Mary or unrelated to the battle entirely? Fuck! I can't remember! Ah...no, no...just need to think for a minute..._

"Uh...Inquisitor?"

_What if staying changes the timeline? Nightmare seemed huge as fuck in the game...gotta be stupid powerful too..._

"Inquisitor, your expression..."

"Inky, you're doing that thing with your face that makes it hard to tell if you're blocked up or just rattled. Not that bad, yeah? She's just making a show of who's hangin' bigger."

_That's right, he -it, feeds on fear. Oh man, does that mean it would get bigger if he plops into the waking world? Oh my God and it's a spider...Holy nutsack a gigantic spider doing its skittering thing...Nope, nope. Didn't sign for that._

" _Nrhm-mm!"_ Rearing back with a vigorous shake of my head at the prospect. Chopping a cutting gesture with my one good hand, not about to be subjected to that horrifying vision. Disregarding the now concerned glances passing between them, I emphatically rule, "get those supplies out within the hour, we're not going anywhere until I witness them with my own eyes disappearing on the horizon. I want a raven dispatched to Griffon Keep the second my guys get here, is that understood?"

"Wait -what?! We're actually going?" Sera exclaims incredulously. "We abandonin' them out there?"

"Even if we go, Sera, that's two extra mouths to feed. Taking from rations they need just so we can feel better about seeing them sooner. Thousands of people needs us more right now. We can actually do something for them instead of sitting and waiting until the men get back. And I think they would agree, don't you?"

Mouth pinching into an annoyed frown, "yeah, fine. I see it. Arse." She grumbles without heat.

Relieved the quick thinking had paid off, I wave Harding to get us out of the sun. Following her to their camp's center of operations to gather more details on the situation and try to rest as much as I could before getting up to start this circus all over again. Anxious whether the plans; the schemes, would be for naught and if I truly was as calculating as I liked to believe.

Or if everything would simply end in misery with the deaths of more than one friend as my penance.                               


	82. Chapter 82

Hard we pushed for Griffon Keep; until its sandstone ramparts towered high above and the thick metal of its barred portcullis rouse in welcome. Passing innumerable campfires and tents to ride into a much changed courtyard and likely more so fortress. Desperate for even the most trivial news on our missing companions success and welfare. Fervently praying in a vain hope as I witnessed the endless sea of nameless faces turned in curiosity that they were but a short distance behind us and I would soon see them again. That I would soon see _him_ again.

The chaotic clutter blended with an air of almost archaic desertion was gone, replaced by an atmosphere of seemingly ceaseless bustle. My unavoidable proof of a budding center of operations for the battle to come that I couldn't escape even if I wished. Stakes had elevated to unprecedented heights and I couldn't falter now, too many important lives depended on my knowledge, my strength. I would do this and I would save them. No other outcome would be accepted.

Barely does the strike of iron shoes on stone reach my ears before the echo of elated whoops and happy hails fill the cramped courtyard at our entrance and we're suddenly enveloped in an ocean of unity and amity.

"Your horse, Inquisitor?'

'Welcome back, Inquisitor.'

'Safe journeys, Inquisitor?'

Smiles and confident faith brightening many a visage as helpful hands speedily crowd close to relieve our small band of weary mounts. Sera gracefully alights from her horse alongside Harding and the few scouts who could be spared as I gingerly angle to do the same. Offering a wavering smile in return to the myriad of well-wishes and expectations, doing my damnedest to dismount in an appearance of normalcy and without a glimpse of pain. Preferring that I didn't add to any whispers about their 'Herald's' attack that may eventually make their way here by showing injury. Choosing instead to hide my condition until the trusted magic of Vivienne or Hawke could be sought.

It was nearly an overwhelming sensation of bombardment standing in the midst of Scouts and now soldiers alike. Their assumption of virtue and triumph in the encroaching conflict; loyally believing it must be divine providence if the messenger of their Maker's bride was leading the charge. Spearing balking fear and the overpowering desire to scream that they had no Heaven's aid, that a flesh and blood human was the only thing that stood before them. That they should look to the strength of their determination and that of those who endured beside them. That their faith was better lain on themselves and the figure who would fight willingly at their back, not in the scared mortal who stood in uncertainty. How badly I wished to shout; to flee, those gazes. Yet recognizing that I needed to remain ensnared within this trap of false assurance if two men were to live.

_I must do this. I can._

Infusing steely resolve in that single fierce pledge as greatly desired faces emerge from the herd, bringing a spark of calm and hope within this tide of unknowns.

"Inquisitor! Sera! Thank the Maker you're both safe, the ravens were so sparse we assumed-"

"Shit exploded."  Hawke happily supplies and offers a _what?_ shrug at Cassandra's answering glower trained on him.

Slowly letting that glare slide from her face as Cassandra returns to me. "It's true there was concern things may have become...volatile." She affirms evenly. "But it is good to see the concern was largely misplaced."

The hint of a smile tugs at the corners of Cassandra's mouth but it's quickly wiped away when a humorous titter erupts from Sera. " _Nnhaha_...yeah... _definitely_ didn't get the right birds." She jovially comments with a shouldering of her gear. "Where's the ale? So many soldier breeches means drinks, right?" Seeming to talk more to herself than anyone present and simply walks into the throng without another word.

Eyes narrow as I'm studied with an unamused look, "...There is a story behind that I presume." Before Cassandra breathes a tired sigh and shakes her head with an expression of prayer. "Come, you must be exhausted. Leliana estimated your arrival so we've had a bath standing in wait for the past day. She's eager for your personal account of the state of things and to discuss the Wardens. However it can wait until you're settled, you look..."

 _Fucking terrible? Like Death eating a cracker?_ Raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Opting for a subtle clear of the throat instead, "you've had better days I'd imagine."

"What your rigid Seeker here means to say is; if you've spent the past two weeks being dragged behind your horse, rolling in dubious slop, then making it your mission to strike a rebellion against hygiene, we'd whole-heartedly believe you." Moving to clap me on the shoulder good-naturedly and immediately rearing back with dramatic gag when he gets near. " _Waah!_ Ju- _pwa-_ that, that is beastly. _And_ offensive."

Laughing and feeling so much better at having them close, as if a taut coil was gradually being loosened, "such an asshole. Missed you too, you jerk."

"No, seriously, we need to have a talk on how you managed that smell. Scholars will want to know. Just, vile."

Trying to put my straight face on, "well you're going to be enjoying its delights for a little long-"

"I think I'm impotent now."

"-er. _Ahahaha!_ " Covering my mouth with a fist as I made an effort to breathe through the tears forming. "Sorry, Cassandra, my aroma broke your man-" Big blues widen and a hand slightly lifts in a cut as handsome features pinch. "I just need to borrow him for a bit but I'll return him in the-" Brows scrunching as the hand slashes vehemently and Hawke's face tweaks in a cringe. "-same...warped....sha- _ohhh...Tsk,_ huh. Whelp, this is Hawkward. _Did not read those signs..._ " muttering the last between my teeth as Hawke disbelievingly buried his face in his palm.

"You're free to take the little weasel wherever you wish, Inquisitor, just don't let that leisurely behavior fool you." She drolly says amid her snorted noise of disgust. "You trust much too easily, my friend." With a pointed scowl at Hawke, Cassandra pivots on her heel and promptly leaves him to me.

Eyes follow her for a second while my lips pucker in a _damn~_ expression and I drag them over to Hawke. " _Dude...._ What'da do?"

"Wasn't what I did, more like what I reminded her about." He puffs wearily. "Long story. And I bet you have one too." Tipping his head at me significantly before his usual mischievousness illuminates his demeanor and he shifts to stand beside me. "First you're getting dunked in soap -lots and _lots_ of soap. Love ya, but I wasn't kidding about your nefarious choice of perfume. I'm having flashbacks of Crestwood. It's a weapon buddy. A. Weapon. And that says something because you wouldn't believe where this nose has been."

~

Awww...Damn I felt sorry for Hawke.

Actually, more so because I had encouraged his pursuit.

In a matter of minutes Hawke had healed ligaments and muscles that would have plainly taken weeks, if not months, to naturally mend. Patiently listening with comical grunts sporadically punctuating particular sections of my desert shenanigans. Appearing sad and somewhat reluctant when I reached my narrative of Aulus.

Gratefully I slipped into tepid water, hissing a sigh of blissful pleasure as if the bath was the heated pools of the divine itself. Wondering why as I sat Hawke remained uncharacteristically silent behind sheets hung to provide a mediocre of privacy. It wasn't until I threatened smothering him with my dirty clothes that the truth finally came out.

It wasn't in doubt that their efforts to harass the Warden's was going to be on the agenda, or that some of its juicer moments would come to light during Leliana's briefing; however whether a specific incident and its details would be discussed at length was another matter. After what I suffered by Aulus' hand, Hawke feared I would come to despise him  and the magic he could do.

And right then, I knew.

Poor Hawke. I should have realized, should have made the connection sooner...

The Wardens had tried their luck with new tactics after numerous successful victories by the Inquisition. Loading their covered wagons with men instead of supplies, springing from shelter when our number were too close to initially defend themselves. Cassandra being the protector she is, was one of the few vanguards. He reacted on instinct, performing magic he knew would guarantee their lives. Too bad it's highly frowned upon and outlawed by the Chantry eh?

Well, anyway, whatever strides he'd managed with my lovely Seeker had sharply -and expeditiously he might add, gone straight down the ol' shitter. She could forgive and even overlook many things, but blood magic was a different consideration entirely. Condoning its use was akin to spitting in the face of her faith and all the years she had given her everything in the service of the Maker. She'd growled at him -growled!- declaring she wouldn't yield herself in such a way for any man, as if he had demanded such a ridiculous thing!

' _Pah!_ Women!' He huffed at its finish, but then Hawke had gone quiet and I thought that it was perhaps the end of it. However his voice had come again, carrying past the screen and holding nothing but dejected melancholy. '...It's fine if you prefer I leave you alone, it's not like I won't understand, blood magic is a scary power after all...'

Nipple punch right to the feels that.

I mean, yeah I was a little irked that Hawke believed I would sincerely hold blood magic against him. That was comparable to me holding a grudge against mages for casting those stupid ice wards or a sword for stabbing me. It was a tool, simple as that. Why in the world would I view a tool and everyone who uses it as something to be feared? Healthy dose of caution depending on the person, sure. Irrational fear and abhorrence? Fuck nah!

Draping both arms over the tub's rim, I had tossed a deadpan counter of, 'You know what else is scary? That rag stuffed up your giant vagina. How about you take it out and put your man panties on?'

A robust hoot and, 'Wench, I was being considerate!' had greeted that. Although hearing it, I couldn't help thinking it also sounded somewhat relieved. It was deplorable and just plain wrong that individuals were forced to feel that way merely for being talented in; or choosing to practice, a skill that the average citizen didn't bother to understand. Just...so very regrettable.

~

"ERR!!! Not happening."

A chink in that cool as a cucumber manner of hers as confounded disbelief  worms its way across Leliana's face. "Inquisitor, you can't be serious. Our army-" 

"Denied." I lazily interject from my spot.

Massaging the back of his neck, positively looking uncomfortable as hell while he regarded the both us.  "Inquisitor...I understand your desire for transparency...It's a noble approach but we really must discuss our strategy-"

"Noble, yes. But let us not omit childish also, Commander." Leliana coldly asserts. "Their worth to our cause is unmistakable, neither is their loyalty. However you are forgetting they are pieces to be moved and nothing more. To delay im-"

" _PPHHBBBTTT!!!!"_ Blowing with as much force and longevity as I could. Never straightening from my insolent lounge within an obscenely garish chair someone had decided was a good idea to unearth. So very bored and done with this pointless debate.

Leliana's pretty features were taking on a rather murder-y tightness as she folds her arms and silently examines her 'Herald'. Possibly puzzling the best way to dispose of the body when she tries once more, "You are the Inquisitor, your responsib-"

"That's right, _I am_ your Inquisitor. Now why's that? Oh yeah, because you wanted a shiny bauble to dangle in front of all those desperate folks." I dryly jeer, indolently setting my leg to swing over the chair's arm. "Sucks when the sparklie won't do what you want, huh?" Clicking my tongue and pouting sadly at them.

"Inquisitor -Lavellan, we have never treated you as a mere trinket." Cullen protests. Clearly attempting to placate the ruffled feathers and be the friendly voice of reason. "We are your advisors. It is our duty to present the facts and our opinions. To remain complacent on matters that could affect the world is a gross injustice to the thousands of men and women depending on us, not to mention you as well, Inquisitor."

Relaxing her posture with a stressed exhale, Leliana inclines her head in begrudging acknowledgement. "Cullen is correct. You must understand, Inquisitor, where we can offer advice and suggestions, in the end the final decision is ultimately yours. Those soldiers outside aren't here for us, it is why I hope you will listen and reconsider."

Snapping my fingers with a _tsk-tsk_ and wink _,_ "duly noted." Then spin to seat myself properly as I fix my attention on them both, all traces of levity completely gone as elbows come to rest on my knees and fingers link together. "Those 'pieces' as you put, don't require very much notice. As Cullen has already confirmed that our heavy hitters and siege weapons are still a week out, we can hold off. Can't start our War of False Promises and Shattered Dreams without them now can we? So there will be no discussion of strategy or battle without my men present. We wait until everyone returns. They have as much right to be present as you, or Cullen," nodding to each of them in turn. "to decide the fate of this army. You may not understand but to me, this Inquisition is theirs. And although I will steer this bitch the best I can to the conclusion that you eventually want, they deserve to have a bigger part in its navigation. Their background -or lack thereof- doesn't mean shit; we clear on this?"

Feet shuffle and his hand absently rises to his neck again. Troubled and visibly unsure as he fidgets for a moment before seeming to catch himself and resolutely nodding once. "Perfectly, Inquisitor." Cullen, always the staunch soldier...

Leliana's capitulation was longer in coming. Her gaze piercing and astutely searching as she stayed unmoving and mute. Dragging it out until it was on the verge of becoming weird before simply stating, "I believe you have the best intentions at heart, but I will say this is a foolish choice you are making. For now let us pray we won't look back at this day and discover this to be a mistake."

I unwind myself and stand with a secretive smile, more entertained by the irony than she could ever realize. "No...Giving _them_ power over this Inquisition is not a mistake. You'll see. That, I can certainly promise."

~

I should be out in the bailey hunting down Vivienne and Hawke; determining if the idea I had was pure brilliance or just plain insane fantasy, but I found I couldn't muster the giddy drive it warranted, or any drive actually.

I had purposely rushed my time with Hawke, not because I didn't want his company, but because I was anxious to meet Leliana. I had been so convinced that she would have reports, a tiny footnote in her super sneaky correspondence, something! To say that the guys had made it safely and were even now on their way. Instead I'd blindly rushed into a date with frustration and tedious harping on how I should conduct myself. And not one word from the Wastes for my trouble.

For all my posturing  in front of Cullen and Leliana, in reality I was nervous about the looming battle. This would be the first true taste of war, of battle. Everything else has been paltry skirmishes in comparison.

Siege weapons...fucking catapults....arrows, flaming boulders, tar--shit, magic out the ass--it was all going to be roaring through the air. The ear-splitting clash of metal, the screams of men and demon alike...God I was afraid. There would be so much chaos, so much turmoil; how did I fight through that? Would I freeze, would I hesitate? What about my team? There was so much room for error, for them to be gravely harmed. A flood of demons and mortals would soon surround us, how did I ensure their lives? Too much...there was too much riding on my shoulders.

_Please, please...a moment...only for a moment...let me find him._

It spoke of how intensely I yearned for Solas and missed him that the depth of my longing called Cole to me. Within this fortress full of souls and the countless more camped outside its walls, mine somehow sang with greater pain.

He sat with me now, gently petting my hair as I used his soothing touch and presence to help me sleep inside my old room. It was daylight still, perhaps Solas slept and I might see him. Even if it was for a second, just a second, I wished to see him. He'd warned against entering the Fade here yet I ached to hear his voice, to feel the warmth of his love. Anything; I would take anything, pay any price. I just...needed him.

Soft and tender the kind caress lulls me. Quieting the suffocating dread and the panic inside my mind. Gradually lowering me into the tranquil waters of slumber and ever closer to the tragic loneliness of the Fade. Gladly my consciousness descends further and further into its depths, willingly reaching for the boundary between realms, desperately seeking the one thing it wanted above all else. Readily entering a world of magic and dreams that inspired no unease within my heart.

Sucks that Thedas seemed to have a way of stickin' it to me at every corner. If I had known what was lurking and waiting for me on the other side, I would have mustered some goddamn energy.


	83. Chapter 83

"... _ah...nuts_."

Something...was off. My inner lizard brain was rattling the cage shrieking 'critical mission failure you idiot! ABORT! ABORT!' but for the life of me, I couldn't determine why.

Ever present twisted spires floating high above within a ghostly night sky, desolate crumbling paths winded empty and forgotten while magic; lively and eager, happily glided in an excited dance through the air before drifting in a leisurely display of contentment...It was a view that had greeted me many a time upon visiting the raw Fade yet there was something...something that felt different than the dozens of 'wakings' I had experienced until now. It gave me pause and I hesitated to call for the man I desperately wished to see. Instinct and an unnamed sense of _knowing_ spurring me to remain unmoving and silent; remain undetected.

Was it eyes; covetous and jealous? Fingers; possessive and grasping? I did not know. But it was there. Searching and ravenous. Tingeing the air with an unsettling prickling of being in the midst of a hunt, of being stalked. A creeping tingle of awareness was crawling up my spine, slithering to the base of my skull. Prodding me to run, to run now. I needed to leave. I needed to swiftly escape before it came for me, for I somehow knew I was the prize it sought.

Eyes shut, trying to block out all else while I hastily extended for the waking world. Fumbling and clumsily reaching out in my nervousness that I failed to so much as flicker. My anxiety mounting as I reach again, feeling the slinking creep of _something_ approaching. The shivers of disquiet racing along my spine growing as the sensation of hitting a dome and rebounding back strikes. Driving me to recklessly shove in a bid for freedom while an encroaching pressure of a predator slinking within the dark gradually inches closer, as if a presence was attempting to utterly submerge the area.

 ** _My...what a pretty little butterfly -such a splendidly rare specimen I've caught..._** Eyes snap open, body whirling to face the voice. Heart beginning a hard pound within my chest as the sight of nothing except the raw Fade lays before me. Urging me to beat furiously in renewed effort against the invisible barrier keeping me here while eyes fugitively seek the thing I know is lurking. A soft rumble of amusement echoes, seemingly from everywhere and nowhere. _**Poor, Akira, so much potential with no understanding of how to wield it. Ahh...but that isn't correct, is it? You've forced such miraculous things already. Ripped that wonderful Spirit of yours...I wonder why that is? They do not matter, this world does not matter. They fear you, you know... Whisper brute, monster, beast...** demon **...**_ Again that sinister chuckle rolls, as if it couldn't suppress the humor it found in its own irony. Feigning disinterest yet doing nothing to conceal its baleful undertones infused in its every word.

Courage flags and my boots inch back, unconsciously retreating from the sensation of being watched from the shadows. An uncontrollable inkling of panic beginning to tangle itself around my heart as I fervently search for the source of the voice, now recognizing that the pitch could belong to none other than a demon; a demon who I had no notion of how to fight. Christ, was it even here? It felt like I was slowly going insane. His voice resounded inside my mind -or maybe not? I no longer knew. It drifted through my head but didn't, echoed over barren pathways but didn't.

Mad. I was being driven mad. There was no one here, it was all in my head. A subconscious worry floating to the surface because I didn't listen to Solas. Demons hadn't swayed me before, hadn't _whispered_ to me before. It was all part of my overactive imagination...simply a trick of the mind...

 ** _Tsk, tsk...._** A disappointed cluck rings in my ears -mind?, and is quickly chased by a deceiving sigh; as though he had been let down. **_Come now, Akira... I'm hurt. Lumping me with those excuses. Pretending I have not come solely for you...Oh, but you are so good at pretending aren't you, 'Inquisitor'? Or should I call you Lavellan? I_** _am_ ** _in the presence of one of the People after all..._** Outright laughter, mocking and infuriatingly snide, comes. And just like that, it breaks through the insecure stupor I had unwittingly allowed myself to fall prey to.

" _Ho-oh, nice dig there, Captain Obvious!"_ Halting my retreat to stand proud, arrogantly resting hands on hip to cover their trembling as I endeavored to do what I did best. Be a huge dick and buy time until a plan hopefully presented itself. " _You know, I'd know that grating school-girl giggle anywhere. How 'bout you skitter on out here Nightmare? Sit down for some milk and cookies -have ourselves a weirdly uncomfortable little tea party...maybe eat some babies..._ " I add under my breath.

 **_Akira, Akira, Akira...That false bravado has served you well until now, but who will you hide behind when they see what you truly are? When_ ** _he_ **_sees what you truly are? Will you continue to matter then? You stole his chance for happiness. Will he understand?_**

Fingers clench and its all I can do to maintain an expression of blasé playfulness while a vise viciously clamped itself around my heart. " _Dude, uncool! Bro-code! Frankly I am quite shocked you'd bring it up, that's a major breach of ethics right there. Your mother would be ashamed, her nightmare-spider-baby unable to keep a secret. Mm-nmm._ " I hum sadly.

Chuckling at having hit his intended mark -shitballs this fucker sounded like he was drawing closer. **_Think to distract me with your banter? There is no escape from my domain, you know it is in vain. Know what it will cost. Is it worth it?_** He silkily asks; pausing for a moment to let the implication sink in, to let me realize just what I'd have to suffer to get away. **_Do you really think your lover is the only one who can help you? Your faith is a sham, Akira. Yet more evidence there is no hope for change, that all your struggle and pain will be for naught. It doesn't need to end that way,_** _we_ ** _can save you from the Anchor. Give you the freedom you've desired. How must if feel to dedicate your life to your freedom, only to watch it slowly be stripped away? Or worse, to know that you are responsible for its ruin? They see an ignorant fool to be used until it breaks. A monster that needs to be given purpose...We would set you free from their tyranny, let you live in peace...In happiness...A God bows to no mortal, you can make them remember. Join us, Akira, take your rightful place and save your comrades._**

The hammering beat of my heart stutters, hearing every word; both said and unspoken. Afraid to hope. _The...Anchor. They can really take the Anchor?_

**_You feel it don't you, how it pulses and burns? On the precipice of raging? You don't have to succumb to its power, to be consumed by it._ **

_I...could really be free? I don't have to fight anymore? I...won't have to fight for the right to survive?_ The cocky stoicism, my mettle; it crumbles away as hands ball into tightly held fists and press to my brow in turmoil. Squeezing my eyes against the barrage of desires and dreams his promises elicit. _Notmywarnotmywarnotmywar...IT'S NOT MY WAR! It was never mine!_

Bitterly I chuckle, my mirth growing louder as arms fall lax at my sides and my head tips to stare above at an emerald night sky. Laughing until disenchanted tears streamed down my face and grim acceptance gradually settled over me. " _Fuck you, you giant shoe fodder._ " I mumble, knowing he would catch every breath. " _You fear me don't you? I understand...I fear me too sometimes._ " Listlessly I drop my chin, gazing out at the forlorn landscape in front of me. Set on the course that I could follow without regret. " _You forgot to mention I could save them all now...I only need to kill you here._ " I sensed it, the abundance of magic that would fly to my call, ready and dangerously potent. The wisps that would enthusiastically dash to heed my command; the overwhelming risk such wildly tumultuous energy would generate for me. I perceived it well. " _The Fade is controlled by will, I wonder which of us has greater sovereignty over it -the sorry Spirit who lost themselves, or the sorry excuse for a 'God'?"_ Gently enticing magic to gather.

 ** _Once again you would take up arms for a cause not your own? Sunder a Soul that is more than a mere reflection of life?_** Dispassionately I turn to study the luminous glow already encompassing my palm despite the care to be delicate. Hearing nothing I was not already wholly aware of. **_You won't last you know. You will die long before you wound me. Your heart will falter and seize, your power destroying from the inside out-_**

" _No...I think I'll last just fine._ " Making a show of coldly examining threads of energy flitting happily between my fingers. _Needing_ myself to believe it because Jesus, I was attempting to pull as daintily as possible and yet magic rushed forth as if I was shouting for it.

 ** _Hahaha...You can't hide it, Akira...the fear. You know your mortal body can't survive sustaining your power. It will be ravaged. You will end as the others before you. Torn apart and vanished. Without a trace, without meaning..._** _Human_ ** _..._** Cackling his glee at correctly reading each terrified thought and emotion flowing through me.

But I was more than my terror and my doubts.

I had to be.

" _You know, there's something about my people you should understand...Back us into a corner and we Kamikaze yo' ass._ " Screw delicacy, it was never my strong suit anyway. " _Yolo, bitch._ " Abandoning all pretense of precision now and summoning currents of magic to pour onto the island. Priming to blow this land and everything within its proximity to kingdom come if I could.

Fake daring kicking in to throw a last taunt of _Dodge this, ass-clown._ in my mind's eye as the sudden surge of pitch black darkness bolts across the ground. Its shadowy tendrils shooting directly for me in a tide of starless night that surrounded from every angle, entirely engulfing all traces of light and the raw Fade until I was promptly swallowed by the dark without even a chance to identify what was happening.

In an instant I was hemmed in by complete nothingness. The sense of being outdoors, of spaciousness, utterly obliterated in a flash. Imparting instead the chilling pressure of being confined, of being buried regardless of the lack of stimuli present. Bestowing a stagnant quality to the air despite the clear presence of magic still easily accessible and lazily waiting.

None of it mattered or was fully recognized however. The radiant glare of my magic was being dulled by the darkness, as though it couldn't quite punch through the gloom and was instead being incrementally devoured by it. Only the sensation of steadily being trapped and the threat of being bereft of even the faintest spark of light was penetrating my psyche. Halting both thoughts and intentions as paralyzing panic snags hold for a split second, leaving only the single-minded desire to get out behind.

Blindly energy collects as its conjured indiscriminately, the sizzling crackle and scorching pop of the Anchor going unnoticed while unbridled terror reigned. Needing out, needing to escape.

 ** _Mm...Such lovely fear. Where did that bravery go, Akira? I thought you were here to kill me?_** Cruelly laughing over my panted breaths. **_Should I help you? I am nothing if not helpful..._** A rosy haze seems to emit from the ground -or what I could assume was still the ground, illuminating a realm of deep twilight that appeared infinite in its shadows. Broken only by the dim glow of crimson that flared from nothing, and far in its dusk a colossal figure loomed. Long limbs poised and outstretched as the rare meal is savored.

Spooked wheezes puff from between my lips. _No! Get going! I can't fail here. Move, before I lose it again._ Feet starting to lurch forward as Nightmare's snide voice chimes,

 ** _My, what a good hero you are. Ah, but perhaps the hero should see what is her cost of victory?_** Boots stumble, colliding with a solid mass and nearly topple me. Eyes widen and the breath catches in my throat, the beating pound of my heart drumming in my ears as I stare out at a sea of death and carnage. Expression hardening as I blink and face straight ahead, beginning to step over maimed and mutilated bodies. Bothered by the sheer ocean of mangled brutality encircling me, but not about to allow such a trick to stop me from getting to him. **_Nhaha...Akira...it is no trick. Those are the people you will murder by your actions. Thousands of innocent families and soldiers....how tragic..._**

Hands clench as a snarl mars my face. " _You chose wrong. I'll climb a fucking mountain of the dead if it means winning._ " Magic building as I relinquish my show of humanity.

 ** _Did I?_** So harmlessly put that I hesitate without thinking. And it's then that the visages of each man, woman, and child changes to that of my companions. Sightless eyes staring in their embrace of death, their once animated faces permanently stamped in agonized throes of pain. Sickeningly realistic and nothing that could be imagined even in the most hellish of nightmares. **_By usurping their true Herald, you have doomed your friends. This world will burn,_** _they_ ** _will burn. You have destroyed everything you touched. Devastated lives that may have otherwise been fruitful. Like the King's bastard and Kirkwall's Champion..._**

Attention rips from those countless deaths, immediately zipping to the creature who offered those names so slyly. _Feeling_ Nightmare's smile of triumph a moment before two men are manifested to hang in thin air. Twin looks of bewilderment and surprise coloring their expressions, knocking the very wind from my lungs at the sight. Like I'd been rooted in place, legs remain unmoving and the dread intensified just as the fear is truly given reason.

Limbs twist and bend, contorting at impossible angles as they are callously manipulated by an invisible force. Breaking and snapping bone that was clear enough to hear well below their tortured yells.

Instinctively feet shuffle forward, toes bumping the ruined horn of Iron Bull, halting me where I stood. Horror and nausea warring for supremacy at the sounds of suffering and field of mangled comrades. Breaths were coming fast and shallow and I shut my eyes against the misery, trying to maintain a sliver of self -of resolve, within this mirage of butchery.

_Not real-not real-not real...none of it is real...strong-strong-strong, have to be strong. Don't lose now, can't lose now. Not real. Not real..._

Swallowing down a lump of fear and uncertainty as I purposefully aim my eyes high and demand legs to move. Managing only one faltering step.               

**_You would walk over the corpses of your 'dear' friends to stop me then? Well, that is impressive. Oh, wait...am I forgetting someone? Ah, yes...How terrible of me. Where are my manners, do forgive the lapse. Can't leave a rebel out of a struggle, now can I?_ **

_No...no, no..._

Phantoms of Hawke and Alistair disappear, rendering this enclosed realm of darkness eerily still. As if being dragged against their will despite efforts to focus solely on the target before me, eyes waver and drift down.

_...no...No!_

Greys of pride and beauty never to brighten with humor. Refined digits never to caress in wonder...The melodic timbre that effortlessly enchanted eternally silenced, never again to whisper words of wonder and love. Of home.

And something inside simply...shattered.

 ** _Did you really believe it would end better for you? You caused this, Akira. Your arrival killed him, he might have been saved if not for you._** Fingers quake, reaching in disbelief as legs slowly sink to bent knee. A pressure, a mounting emotion bubbling its way to the surface. **_The true Inquisitor -Lavellan...she would have loved him._ **_She_ **_would have saved him, given him a life of happiness. She_ _would have been a savior._ **_His_ **_savior..._** Tips brush skin cold as ice, a hiccup; a desperate breath, escaping. Building, building; until the pressure was a violent swell inside. **_His blood is on your hands. Once again he is betrayed by someone he trusted, scarred by someone he loved...And it is all_ **_your_ **_doing._** Erupting in a tormented flood. Screams of wrath, of the broken. Harrowed screams raging from the soul refusing to be smothered.

Were those grieved cries restricted to the cage of the spirit, or did their sorrow sing through the Fade as well? Wisps, magic; they roared in sudden unrestrained release. Rampaging in a lawless storm of energy and anguish. Cleaving with indiscriminate purpose, carving apart this realm and perhaps the next. Magic, the Fade; they were worthless. The one irreplaceable existence lay cold beneath my palms. And it would inevitably be my doing.

_-gara!_

A creeping darkness, a writhing taste of insanity worming its way over my consciousness...Hunched in devastated defeat, clutching a body riddled with lyrium, blinded by a watery curtain; I no longer cared. My strength -my will, having died along with the man I could no longer see.

_-elgara!_

Pain, suffering -all the terrible hardship to strive to be capable, to be an asset; utterly meaningless.

" _Da'elgara!"_ Light; resplendent and dazzling, plunges through the dark. Warmly shinning through unfathomable twilight and chaos to land at my back.

**_You! How-_ **

"You must come with me now, _da'elgara_." Wrapping me in gentle heat, trying to lift my struggling form from Solas. "Please, _da'elgara_ , remember. Do not grant it substance."

_**Ah, no matter. Your fear will be joining hers soon enough, little remnant. My, what** will **I do with the abundance of fare. Your kind certainly provides such exquisite sustenance...**_

Hauling me close, gripping tightly, refusing to let go, "You dare harm a child of the Creators, look how far you've fallen. Your day will come, creature." Larry hisses.

Nightmare's incensed snarl of, **_Fool!_** the final booming valediction before Larry's brilliance engulfs us. In an instant the bleak loneliness of the raw Fade sprawls in every direction. Its somber tranquility shattered in seconds upon arriving by the frenzied tempest following in my wake.

"Remember, please remember, _da'elgara._ You must calm." Cupping my face between his hands, forcing me to meet emerald eyes amidst wracking sobs. Unwavering, steadfast determination etched within their depths as his voice tenderly but firmly heaves me from despair. "It is an illusion. It was a mere illusion, your wolf lives. Please remember, he lives, you have not harmed him."

 _"L-Larry?"_ Barely discerning the silvery locks and sparkling eyes of my friend through the tears. Lost, so terribly lost within the pain. Wishing to simply disappear. _"L-Larry, it hurts, he's g-gone. I c-can't f-find him. I k-killed him and now he's g-gone. My Solas is gone. It h-hurts..."_ Feeling the screams rising in answer, the desire for oblivion causing the gale of power to violently grow.

"No! He lives! Remember!" A single hard shake, denying me a level of solace. "Nightmare used you, _used_ him. Remember, _da'elgara!_ Will you let the demon win? Will you let your tether die in truth? _Da'elgara!"_

Hiccupping, attempting to get a measure of the sobs under control, _"Nightmare...?"_ Savage waves of magic slowly starting to wane, _"...not gone...Solas...isn't gone?"_

"No, he is not." He says softly.

 _"...not...?"_ Sniffling, inhaling deeply; the pieces sluggish to reform. The squall dissipating at last as details realign.

Thumbs gently wipe the wet tracks from my cheeks, a sad smile alighting his handsome face, "I'm sorry, you need your tether but you must wake up, it is not safe here. They worry for you as well and await your return." Before slender fingers lower to clasp my wrist, bringing an anchor driven riotous to rest against his lips.

" _La-"_ Faltering, the confusion wilting away as an expression akin to severe pain bathes his face. Immediately tugging the anchor from his grasp, a concerned objection on the tip of my tongue. About to demand answers only to pause at realizing its blazing glare and excruciating thrum had ceased. Knees buckle and Larry collapses with an agonized groan, his once robust skin pale and ashen. _"Larry?! Oh god, what did you do?!"_ Dropping, seizing his jaw in my hands and tilting his face to look up at me. Nearly hysterical from the haggardness that had so swiftly invaded his features.

Lids owlishly open and palms rise to cover mine as Larry inhales as though they strained him. His tongue darting out to moisten dry lips before his gaze seems to be able to fasten on me and Larry makes an attempt to offer a weak smile meant to be reassuring. "Everything will be all right _da'elgara_ , I promise. I will be sure to teach you how to locate your wolf..." Eyelids briefly flutter and I believed I was about to see if Spirits could be rendered unconscious when they blearily snap open again, "None can hide from you, I will teach you...you will live, _da'elgara_ , I promise...must wake up now... _wake up._ " A hushed whisper yet it slapped with unforgiving force. My shocked gasp the sole noise I was able to emit before I'm gone.               

Larry never even gave me time to tell him thank you.

Or that he forgot his clothes.  


	84. Chapter 84

Sounds of grief echoed within a tiny room of cold stone. Those hitched breaths struggling to be smothered chocked sobs of inconsolable despair and defeat. Unaware their wretched sorrow was my own as I'm snapped into the waking world without preamble. A disoriented fog clouding my mind as a blend of confusion and sadness holds my emotions captive and I turn a tear streaked face to the chamber that had once been whole. Trying to settle the pitiful mewls as eyes travel over deep gouges etched in mortar and fissures yet aglow with embers. Miserably lost while the truth of dream and reality cruelly clash, experiencing its poignant punch that lingered despite waking. So incredibly shaken, sensing that perhaps I had been broken in ways I had never imagined as the murmur of voices penetrates the haze.

"-we're barely containing anything, the bloody fortress is going to be toppled on top of us at this rate. We need help, Hawke. Cole can't reach her and she isn't getting out on her own. Time to call in the others."

Quickly seizing his friend's arm and halting his exit from the room, "we get the others involved and it's going to generate a shit storm, you know it too, Alistair." Hawke hisses resolutely. "So many mages and templars running into the Inquisitor's room at night and there's no way to shut the rumors from flying. She's going to be marked possessed, Alistair!"

"Better gossip than actually becoming an abomination or being murdered by your own power!" He flings back.

Sighing heavily with a disbelieving, "shit.." under his breath; Varric merely shakes his head at his friend. "Look, I was the first to jump on board, Hawke, but I think Peaches has a point. The Kid can't get a read on what's happening in there and without Chuckles to do his 'Fade' thing, we're royally stuck up a-"

"You're back!" Jumping up from his spot on the floor in relief. Immediately silencing everyone present and drawing their shocked attention to land on me. "Black, twisted, angry. I tried to reach but there was no hold. I'm glad he helped."

"He? Never mind." Puffing a calming breath with a scrub his face. "Maker, thought it would be the Mage's Circle all over again..."

Hurrying over with the rest, "Andraste's ass, what did you poke in there, Glow Bait? I know you want to impress Chuckles but there's better ways to do it." Varric jests with a reassured smirk.

"Better question, how bad is it and how we explaining this to your Spymaster and Cassandra?" Swiveling to survey the damage and giving a cringing wince. "Because -just throwing this out- I think there is a high probability that we're 'going night, night' when they see this." Spurring twin groans in response.

With congested sniffles I shuffle up, feeling like my heart had been crushed to pieces and body had been torn apart as I prop myself on elbows. Doing my damnedest to get under control and shrug off even a margin of the bruised ache knotted inside my chest. "Bad. A stiff drink is in order. Or twenty."

~

"Bless the Maker and all, but He was deep in His holy golden cups the day He made that thing." Alistair states with a shiver of exaggerated disgust before taking another swig from his mug.

They vaguely knew of Nightmare's existence now and his allegiance to Corypheus. After Cole's quick bid for aid and the obvious destruction littering my room, there had been no other logical alternative. Yet the true source for my knowledge and its full divulgence remained solely with me, and perhaps Cole. For how much could truly be revealed before the scales of information became too one sided to be considered innocuous? Though the complete story behind the visions I had been forced to witness and the things Nightmare had discovered to use against me hadn't been uttered, they understood my desire for mindless oblivion and a semblance of normalcy. Asking nothing more from me then a promise to speak with Leliana and Cassandra in the morning as escapades during my time in the tombs were laughably discussed. Letting me feel the warmth of having comrades near, that I wasn't alone. For this lull; this bit of peace, I was eternally grateful and they would probably never realize just how much.

As mirth and sputtering coughs surround me at Alistair's opinion of giant nugs, I couldn't help the residual disquiet and fear refusing to vanish. No matter how desperately I tried to be _here_ , with these people laughing so merrily, it was there. Resting beneath the thin veneer of cheer I had been able to muster.

Unprepared... I had been so very arrogantly; ignorantly, wholly unprepared. Everything had been so tangible...so visceral...

That first taste of actual interaction with a demon....

Was it simply from being within the Fade? Inside a demon's domain? Simply because I'd had the terrible luck of finally coming into contact with a truly powerful creature? God save me I did not know.

I did not know what I had even been expecting either, although it certainly hadn't been that. A fist fight? An epic battle of wills? Cram the bad guy in the imaginary mental time-out box? Shit, it had been nothing of the sort. Not even close. The 'battle' had probably been over long before I even realized I was in for a fight in the first place. I was from a world of science; of logic and laws, how stupidly idiotic to believe I was ready and able to easily handle a beast that relied solely on the mind. Thinking that the knowledge of knowing where I was; of knowing the nature of my opponent, would somehow elevate me above all others. Would somehow grant me immunity from the whims of the heart. I had been so incredibly foolish to believe I would be relatively insusceptible or impervious to any tactic Nightmare fancied to employ, that it would be a matter of wielding a strong resolution... To call it a battle against the mind, or inner demons; or blasted insecurities, was an extreme understatement. It was purely...

Indescribable and devastatingly overwhelming.

I chuckle along with the others, squeezing the mug in my hands, vainly attempting to shove it all down. Trying to ignore the crawling and twisting anxieties, the horrifying questions and passing musings drifting inside my head. Needing to not look down at the evidence of naive confidence and its chilling cost striating under my skin.

 _How was Larry, was he alright? What was I supposed to do with Nightmare? What did he see? How do I win? What do I do now? How do I stop this?_ Endless thoughts that raced and denied to be suffocated and locked away no matter how hard I wished otherwise. Larry's fate, his health; how did I determine that without stepping within the Fade? Did he need to evade Nightmare now, was he being hunted? Could I save him? What about what I had seen in Nightmare's visions? It hurt to remember; even a glimpse of remembrance hurt as though it was happening all over again. I couldn't dwell on it, couldn't think about. It was too dangerous. I was barely hanging on as it was. Thinking about Solas, what he might mean...I couldn't pick at that thread. And now I had new concerns I needed to focus on thanks to my humongous stupidity.

Like Adamant.   

There was no doubt that I could perhaps be well and truly screwed. Spirits saw inside people, how much had Nightmare pulled from me before Larry arrived? My refusal to begin strategizing with the advisors had ironically been a godsend. But that didn't apply to the insane idea I had conjured in my brain or about what I already knew to happen during Adamant's siege. Would that knowledge be used against us? Would steps be taken to hinder or thwart us completely now? Holy fuck, I'd more than screwed us...I was the worst person for the enemy to have read. It was going to require more than whatever the companions and advisors came up with to overtake the Wardens now. It required my involvement, or more specifically, the expertise and insight of thousands of years and wars fought throughout my world's history. These people, this Inquisition; they needed ingenuity. They needed devious.

And I needed booze. Lots and lots of mind numbing booze.

~

Arms languidly stretched across the table, " _hee..._ aa~le...laa~le...I like ale..." Giggling happily then snagging on the sight of my arm and gasping in surprise, "look, look! Isn't it pretty? It's eating me but it's pretty..." flopping the appendage for all to see and emitting more tipsy titters.

Raising her cup jovially, "drinkin's the friggin' tits!" Fully sprawled front first atop the table, not even bothering to lift her head draped over its edge. " _Bleugh..._ "

Rather sober compared to our greatly inebriated asses and smiling at Sera who had deemed to join us, "might want to slow down there, Buttercup, I don't think the sentries have recovered from the last 'gift' you left them."

"Yours ace's slow!"

Snorting genially with a salute of his cup, "set myself up for that one." Then leaning to extend a hand to pat my arm and halt the drunken flapping, "it'll be fine, nothing's going to eat you, Boss. Look at all the shit that's already happened to you. Lived from an explosion that leveled a mountaintop and fell out of the Fade of all places. Traveled through time. Faced off against a demi-god straight out of a children's cautionary tale. Had another mountain fall on you -and _lived_. Been shot and stabbed more times than I can count. Prance around the Fade like it's a meadow of rainbows and flowers." Huffing another snort and shrugging his shoulders, "shit, that's gotta count for something, Glow Bug."        

Chin tipped back in his chair, Alistair straightens with a snap and looks at Varric with boyish amazement. "An Oracle! You know something, Varric?" Before fixing a suspicious squint on him. "Dwarves always know something...you sneaky..." seeming to lose the thought, "sneaks..." He finishes. Missing Varric's point entirely.

Inhaling sharply and eyeing his friend with wonder. "That's why his chest hair's so big! It's full of secrets!" Hawke declares in a loud whisper. Lips sucking in as fingers wave to try and pet the crisp strands from across the table. "whisper...whisper to me..."

"Not that I don't appreciate the resourcefulness you're endowing my hair, but once the belief turns to it being sentient, it's time to cut the alcohol." Subtly sliding the pitcher from Hawke's reach and chuckling at the expression of woe. "I'm not getting blamed if war breaks out and you're too sloshed to help. Cassandra's stabbed me in the book once already."

"For which I have apologized, Varric. You're worse than Dorian and his robes." The woman in question dryly retorts from the hall, proudly marching to stand between our tables and grunting at the sight we present. "Guards reported a disturbance coming from the Inquisitor's room and some...unsavory...leavings on the battlements. Neither of which have anything to do with-" gesturing to encompass us all, "-this I suppose." Cassandra comments.

Chuckling and showing his palms innocently, "really, Seeker, why are we your first suspects. We're just your normal lazing foot soldiers." Varric charmingly attests to the brow skeptically quirked at him.

"Blazing!" Comes the cheer directed at the floor.

"No, _lazi_..." giving up with a weary sigh as he recognizes it would only fall on deaf ears.

Beaming dopily and pushing his chair back to unsteadily stand, common sense and troubles of magic forgotten, "Cassandra, I'll be your eager foot soldier."

"That won't be necessary." Deadpan and nearly immediate.

Swaying and huge village-simpleton smile still spread wide on his face, " _hehe..._ if I do it anyway, do I get spanked for insubordination? You're beautiful when you're mad, I like it."

Expression saying she'd heard Hawke's ramblings more than once, "careful, or one would assume you're shallow, Champion." Never batting an eye.

"Shallow as a rain puddle!" At Hawke's triumphant announcement Cassandra rolls her eyes and pivots with a noise of disgust. Leaving a stupefied and speechless Hawke gawking after her departing back. "Wha...? What'd I say?" Glancing between us for answers. At mine and Alistair's disbelieving shrugs and Varric's mirth, Hawke resolutely stares back at the archway Cassandra had exited with a determined nod to himself. "If I'm going to win her heart, I've got to become a...a..." face scrunching at the attempt to find the right word.

"Champion?" Alistair supplies helpfully.

"He's already that, Peaches. A Saint?"

"Virgin?" I ask.

"What? No!" Sounding absolutely appalled at the thought.

Trying again, "a man?"

"Okay, that hurts."

"A honeyed tongue?"

"Dandy?"

"Better dresser?"

"Well, yes, but not what I was going for. I think."

Finally lifting her head and meeting Hawke's gaze dead on, "a dickfor." She claims firmly.

Forehead creased in utter bafflement and tone perfectly serious, "What's a dickfor?" Setting off howls of laughter the moment it leaves his mouth. The ad-lib taking a second to register before Hawke's face clears and the big smile is back in place. " _Ha!_ You're a bunch of assholes."


	85. Chapter 85

Stressed. So excruciatingly, soul-crushingly stressed. The anxious jitteriness a constant pressure upon waking with a massive hangover this afternoon. Now, as I stood leaning against cold stone in an empty passage, I allowed the full weight of tenuous futures and fragile dreams to come to roost. Swarms of burdens that had never been sought nor desired yet had been fostered upon me regardless. Responsibilities that were better suited for the pious idealist who believed they somehow had a right or obligation to meddle in the lives of others, not the jaded cynic who recognized that some things just weren't that simple. But now...now this was my responsibility, my burden to bare. I had caused this outcome with Nightmare and potentially doomed a victory that had likely been pre-ordained. I was accountable, and my integrity wouldn't permit me to idly sit by while the consequence of my actions caused another to fail. These people wanted a 'Herald' so badly? They were about to fucking get one. Whether they rejoiced or cursed the day I frankly didn't give a damn. Adamant was going to be won at any cost, but more importantly, it would be won without the loss of a single friend. There had to be a way and I would find it.

Wheels had already been churning during my conversation with Leliana and Cullen. I had only intended to speak with Leliana about the occurrence last night, but Cullen had been in the room when I arrived and I saw no reason to give the impression I had something to hide. So minimalist details concerning Nightmare's looming presence within the region and his 'probable' ties to Corypheus as an ally had been shared. Leaving heaping portions unsaid and vague, not about to incriminate myself or throw down red flags like they were a personal challenge to Leliana.

They had briefly attempted to lure me into discussing Adamant and plans for its capture but I had deflected once more. Though not nearly as obstinate as before and instead exited with the evasion of considering it and wanting to determine if certain strategies were viable first.

Well, perhaps it hadn't been a total lie. I was pondering whether to one-sidedly devise a method for Adamant but there was more I needed to explore before I decided on that course of action. Not every prospect may be possible if resources weren't available or the talent and expertise of our troops was inadequate. I had to work with what I _had_ , not what I wanted. And I had to make it be enough.

Palms uncommonly soft and unblemished for this world scrub down my face wearily. Feeling the rough scrape of a blooming callus as they brush over my cheeks. I look down at hands left bare, having taken to wandering disarmed within the safety of the Keep. Dispassionately studying branches of sage marring one while the other remained untarnished and rosy. No longer so blindingly petrified by the sight as furious after being bombarded with countless fearful and awed stares from strangers at its glaring display. Purposely feeding the anger to maintain an ounce of sanity. Needing it to endure the terror writhing on the fringes of my mind, ready to destroy and cripple at the slightest opportunity.

 _I wonder what Solas will think of them now?_ Fleeting, nonsensical. A distracted contemplation that had nothing to do with the Anchor's sinister appearance. The blatant silence to some and the bitter answer of ' _What did you honestly expect to happen to a mortal using such power?'_ to others wasn't something I would have to concern myself with when it came to Solas.

One glance and he would know.

No, the silly thought had everything to do with his reaction to hands that I believed he took immense delight in. The care he had taken to heal the most insignificant of cuts, the way his eyes would gentle when he skimmed his fingers languidly over the smooth pads  -almost reverently, as if entranced; there was little doubt Solas found pleasure and took great pride in their condition. Why I should worry; maybe even feel a sense of guilt, as though I had sullied them, I did not know. But it was there and the illogical thought flittered through my mind.

 _What unless things are you thinking about, Akira._ Resting my head back with a tired exhale and shut of my eyes. There were serious tasks to handle and consider. Foremost and primary being to hunt down whatever corner Hawke was skulking in then track Vivienne. I needed to know what the average Mage was capable of; a chore that I should have done yesterday but ended up being a mercy that I hadn't. If Nightmare truly had read anything, he could only guess whether the tactic would be employed.

I had far more crucial things that demanded my attention yet I stayed rooted against the wall, faintly scared and reluctant to leave the peace of this hallway; even stressed and panicky as I was. When I left, when I walked from this hall and into the light, I would have to be perfect. I had to be cunning and I could not make one mistake in my choices. If I did, if I overestimated a single plan; it could mean the lives of individuals who had become my pillars in this world.

I had to be perfect.

 _This can be done, I can do this. It's possible. I can do better than the Inquisitor, I can save them both. It's alright that I'm not the Inquisitor. It's all right. I haven't done anything wrong by coming here. I'm not the Inquisitor. I'm not the Inquisitor._ A mantra I repeat over and over again. Telling myself; _reminding_ myself, that as righteous and talented as the Inquisitor had been, they had still accepted the price of a comrade to escape the Fade and conquer Adamant. I would fucking do better. _I'm not the Inquisitor, not Lavellan, I don't have to accept that. I don't have to accept any of it! Screw you, Thedas, and your obnoxious mutant demons! I don't have to take any of your bullshit!_ Feeling the burn of renewed resolve, of an unbending iron determination that I had somehow allowed myself to lose sight of. Inhaling deeply, I shove off. _I would do this, knowledge is greater than any power. I would do this. I will be better than the Inquisitor. Better than Lavellan. I'll show this world a 'Herald' isn't the be all end all._

Bravely marching from the shadows and into the sun.


	86. Chapter 86

Rubbing his palms together excitedly with a maniacal look at the mages gathered, "so, who's ready for some dumb-fuckery?"

"Charming." Vivienne drolly comments. "Why are you here again, darling? This will go smoother without your help, Champion."

"For talent!"

"If 'talent' was the concern, it is already more than covered. Do take a seat and try not to distract anyone with your skulking."

"....skulk if I want...." Hawke grumbles then speedily runs away with a squeal at the dark expression leveled at him.  Using the far group as his personal meat shield as he takes position as their teacher and waits for my signal to begin.

Letting the chuckle subside, I gaze out at our modest sample size. Shrewdly considering the shuffling men and women who would allow me to determine if the crux of my stratagem was viable and to what extent. These trials, these people; they were important and they didn't even know it yet.

But they would.

I smile, raising my hand to close in a hard fist, indicating for the test to begin. Having utmost faith that my belief wouldn't be in vain.

~

I hear it before I see it.

A low whir of bustle with a hint of anticipation and vivacity.

I hop the last remaining steps, bounding into an inner ward alive with unusual activity. An air of excitement coloring the bailey and on many a face as men and woman hurried to and fro. Curious and intensely confused as to what was happening and why the sudden change as I survey the flurry of commotion.

Quickly nabbing a scout before they pass, "what's going on?"

Obvious annoyance turns on me at being grabbed and rudely questioned. Their mouth parting to respond in kind when eyes fall on a distinguishable Anchor and instantly wipes the annoyance from his features. "M-men, my lady. Your men. Th-"

"Where?!" Seizing him by both shoulders now, a hairsbreadth from shaking the ever-living-shit out of him but somehow reining in the impulse just enough to wait.

Barely.

"The Well. But, your Ho-" Already gone and sprinting as fast as my legs could take me.

_They were here! They'd made it! Solas...Solas was here!_

I didn't care or pay heed to the people milling about, nor any of the stares and murmurs at my flight. _He_ was here. He had returned and there was nothing else in this moment.

I dodge and weave through the quarter, racing past troops and down wide stairs that would lead me to the outer ward beyond. Emotion a hard knot in my throat and heavy clamp around my heart, feeling as if it was sinking within my chest as I vault into a busy bailey. An anxious pound coursing through my veins while I frantically scanned for any sign of men who would stand a world apart from others.

Breath catching when familiar voices drift from a curtained niche beneath the wall's stairwell.

"-be finding sand in my knickers for days."

"We'll be lucky to wash the stench-" _Smack!_ "-Hands, on your own task."

"They are! Really, now you're being paranoid."

" _Ha!_ As if I would f-- _AHH!"_ Yelping in surprise and scurrying to cover himself as the blanket is flung aside.

A stark naked Iron Bull leaning unperturbed on a crate as Dorian used him as a screen, a startled and flustered Blackwall spinning to show his backside as he hastily tried to tug pants from around his ankles; I minded none of it when I discovered that little alcove littered with buckets. My eyes only sought one shirtless figure who straightened and turned at the abrupt intrusion.

"Aki-?!" Shocked, staggering back from the force, yet effortlessly capturing the tiny body that leapt and fiercely wrapped itself around him.

I bury my face in the hollow of his neck, squeezing tightly and refuse to do anything but cling to him. Recognizing the exact second Solas perceived the change in the Anchor. A near imperceptible tensing of his muscles that heralded a laden hush as friends too marked its undeniable transformation. Heavy and oppressive, permeating this cramped space while feet away, separated by meager cloth, a fortress teemed with blissful ignorance.

Hands leave my hips, confident in the current stranglehold. Shifting instead to cradle my head and encircle my waist. Tenderly enveloping me in a firm embrace as warm lips angle to brush my ear. Holding me as steadfast as I did him as he moved to seat himself without a word.

Warmth. Safety.

 _Home_.

They were there as Solas silently folded me in his arms, giving me everything I needed as I instinctively knew he would.

In another time, another life; I would have balked against the weakness those emotions bring. Fearing the raw and exposed vulnerability. But I had left him. Leaving with nothing save his haunting memory and the sharp sear of longing. So I soaked in his presence like a woman condemned. Conscious of the risks and undeniable folly of harboring such thoughts without the energy nor desire to seal them away.

But I had left.

And I had once more been forced to be a witness to his death.

Quietly he sat. Hugging me for untold minutes until he gradually loosened his hold to gently pet my hair. The languid strokes a caress that felt as if they were perhaps meant to soothe him more than me as Solas wordlessly kept me nestled on his lap. What he thought as I clung to him so desperately I couldn't even begin to imagine. Knowing only he appeared satisfied to simply remain as we were and let the rest of the world wait.

Dust, sand, the sweat and filth of countless days under a blazing sun; it didn't matter. Caked as Solas was, he would always ever smell like Heaven beneath the worst of any grime. And I dearly needed the feeling of hearth and shelter that came from his touch. A light to chase the shadows that had been burned onto my soul. That he was a phantasm and the liable harbinger of my ruin was a crushing irony that I didn't have the will to fight. However in this moment Solas was merely that.

Solas.

My Solas. My inescapable red thread of Fate, one I worried I would perhaps not trade for anything regardless of reward.

Fingers loosely curl, coaxing and relaxing the fierce hold, pulling the Anchor forward. Bringing gnarled veins of emerald to be seen, striking a spark of dread within my heart. I was scared to open my eyes, to lift my head from the warmth of his neck. To know what he thought of his power eerily expanded. Of branches that seemed alive crawling beneath pale skin, radiating and pulsing like a poison over a once untarnished forearm.

Then a press, a kiss. Soft yet firm as lips come to rest on unearthly tracks. Expressing more in that simple brush than any words ever could. Rending my heart as I finally move to gaze at the man who quietly laid his lips to vitiated flesh and raised beautiful greys to stare back in turn.

Seeing...emptiness.

The helpless light of a victim who could do nothing but watch as something precious was stolen forever. Desolation, an anguished acceptance: my answer without ever needing to utter a sound as those soulful eyes traveled across my face.

Morose yet invested with such love those strong hands moved to comb flyaway locks, a subdued caress of unfathomable adoration tinged by grief. An undeclared testament of affection and sadness that sang to me even as the hollowness of a strange serenity settled over me. So sweetly those fingers that wielded such formidable power glided through short tresses. Skimming with feather-light gentleness across pale skin to the delicate scars freshly scored on slender shoulders as eyes capable of immeasurable coldness followed their descent with a humbling sincerity. A knife all their own as they move almost reverently over discolored flesh before the press of full lips lower in an ethereal kiss. Warmly ghosting over faint marks as the sizzling heat of his magic flares beneath his touch; soothing and mending, thawing the numbness encasing my heart.

Hearing the tormented whisper of, _"melana ma'lath..."_ as hands hold me close, wrenching a hiccuped breath from between unwilling lips. Forcing me to quickly clench my teeth to cease its progression, desperate to fight against the ache building at those hushed words imbued with so much hurt as Solas' cherished visage waves and blurs.

 _Ah, no. No, no. Not like this. Not here._ Squeezing my eyes against the sting, feeling the hot trail of broken tears yet unable to stem their flow despite my efforts. _He deserves better. Not here._ Fruitlessly trying to suppress the devastation and losing the battle entirely as quiet _vhenan's_ punctuate plaint kisses. Utterly defenseless against the unfeigned devotion as it viciously pulls wracked sobs to bubble forth.

 _"Shh...shh..._ you are not alone, Akira..." Peppering my face with soft presses, a painful tenderness that unknowingly ripped me apart with each loving graze.  " _Ah, vhenan..._ please...you are not alone. I'm here...I'm here..." Destroying me anew with his kindness and propelling the shattered tears to fall even harder.

I needed to smother them, to curb the broken weeping, wait until I found the solitude of my room to surrender. And lord did I try, I really did. Solas deserved better than the wretched sight of a lover who he could only hopelessly watch as they became crushed by despair. But my emotions and soul were pathetically weak against anything to do with the man and I was powerless to restrain the overwhelming flood I had until this point ruthlessly repressed. How to salvage this? How to wipe the remorse and sorrow from features that should only ever be alit with gentle contentment and happiness? Even as the fabric of my very being flagged and raged, screamed in denial, I still desired to clear the sadness from his eyes. I had never wished to add to his pain nor be the reason for its emergence. How to fix this?

" _...my heart..._ " So earnest, so fondly brushing the hair that had become wet from tears from my cheeks. Wearing an expression as though he would never tire from looking at my face; an expression that gave me the clarity to withstand the torrent nearly towing me under.

"It-it's n-not fa-air..." Doing my damnedest to shove the words out, to get them past the chocked sobs, to attempt to control my hiccuped breathing. I needed to do this, I _had_ to do this. For Solas I would accomplish anything if it meant his ultimate happiness.

"I know, _vhenan_..." he concedes quietly, never pausing in his caring ministrations as those somber greys remain locked on me.

Sniffing mightily to keep from leaking on him before finally managing a dismal wail, "N-n-no. Wh-why aren't y-you n-naked?!"

Now _that_ paused the petting.

Whatever Solas had initially planned to console me with ended up cutoff and as a stunned noise instead. The confounded expression as he was momentarily struck speechless, like his mind was at a loss for how to react and compute the idiotic demand, was one I would have found hilarious if not for feeling so terrible. However as I had hoped it would, the total left-field I'd thrown at him succeeded in erasing the grief. Now to just persist and drive this advantage while getting myself under temporary control.

Too bad it's easier thought than done.

"There...that is not the concern." Flabbergasted, somewhat slow to rally but rallying nonetheless. "Akira, it is-"

"I-It is!" I cry miserably, making an effort to scrub the tears from my face, not even bothering to be pretty about it at this point. "You've be-een gone and I cou-couldn't see you. I-If you l-loved me, y-you'd be pantsle-hess."

Numbly repeating, " 'If I'...?" before the incredulity suddenly fractures entirely.

It was as if a dam had opened, or a sun had been released within a realm of eternal twilight.

Softly, gradually, his nasally chuckle grew into an all too rare laugh. Beautifully coloring a face that somehow seemed youthful and free. Animating and brightening that handsome countenance until the unmistakable sight of crow's-feet emerged. Taking away an indescribable amount of the darkness as those greys danced with light and a smile bathed features awash in humor. So excruciatingly beautiful.

So intensely coveted and treasured.

Palms cradle the sides of my face, drawing me near as Solas rests his head against mine. The gentle rumble of his mirth yet echoing between us while the heat of our skin and the warmth of our breath intertwines. A deep inhale and a breathless confession of, "I am at a loss." when Solas finally pulls back with a small smirk. The playful light yet lingering as he tilts his head to quietly study me. "Does nothing intimidate you?"

Somewhat hoarse and sniffling once more, "when you promise sexy time after finishing tasks then don't put out." I grumble.

Snorting and visibly quelling another chuckle, "A valiant effort, _vhenan_ , but I am not so easily dissuaded. We _will_ have a discussion of how the Anchor came to its present state." He asserts. For a moment his thumbs rub soothingly along my cheeks and Solas hesitates, the shadows of grief partially returning as he stares into my eyes. "And how to arrest its growth." he adds. Solemn, determined.

Ah, how much I believed and trusted those eyes so absolutely. Following anything unquestioningly and blindly. There was no doubt in my mind that if there was a way, Solas would find it. Whether it was a matter of power or knowledge, Solas would find something; even if only temporary, in which to curb the Anchor's deadly expansion. My faith in him was just that unwavering and assured.

Though my enthusiasm to divulge exactly _how_ it probably became such a problem in the first place was another case completely. Based off common sense and when its eerie 'blooming' began to occur, I could only assume my dealings with Aulus then subsequent run-in with Nightmare caused my current predicament. Now, ambushed with Blood Magic was one thing, however the Nightmare fuck-up was quite different.

Balls, was I not jumping with excitement to mention _that_ whoopsie encounter to Solas.

"The Scouts never said anything?" _Gods. Divert! Divert!_

Killing that tiny hope with one swift stroke, "Briefly, though it is not the same. I would be more at ease hearing from you." Wordlessly Solas urges me to unfurl and stand. Settling me nearby while he mutely bends for a soaked washcloth before straightening and shifting to stand close once again as he gently begins to silently wipe my face. Ignoring the pout sprouting beneath his tender care as he continues, "but perhaps allow me a moment to bathe first. My present...spice...leaves much to be desired." He supplies teasingly with a wet _plop!_ as he tosses the cloth back into a bucket. "And I am reasonably certain the others would be grateful to return and finish as well."

It wasn't until after Solas mentioned it that I did a cursory glance around their little blanketed niche and yup, sure enough the guys had stepped out to give us privacy -hopefully sparing the time to get modestly dressed first. Bless their kind and romantic hearts for I hadn't noticed a bloody thing.

"It's okay, I don't mind. I'll wait outside. Though if you guys got the story from the Scouts then there isn't too much more. Kinda long and there's a war council that's been on hold and waiting for everyone's return so the major players are together. Leliana and Cullen will want to get it started as soon as everyone's done...." I ramble; all the while praying to all that was holy that _for once_ Solas would park his brain in siesta mode.

I admit that was an exceedingly moronic wish.

Especially when he was quick to counter with, "the short version then. As we walk."

_Nutsack._

ARGH! The man was like a dog with a bone sometimes. Just once -Just once!, it would be fantastic if he had a mental brain fart. That's not too much to ask right? A little bit of cluelessness sometimes?

Or maybe all the time...

Heaving an inner sigh of someone who knew they were about to face the piper, I take the opportunity to sweep a hand over bared muscles with a less than excited, "Alright..." before I spin to exit. Passing the others who milled near the well with an apologetic smile and grateful wave as I strode for the bailey steps to wait.

Wondering just how high I was about to shoot Solas' blood pressure while I sat in butt-clenched doomed misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Melana ma'lath: (Elven) Loosely; Stay in this time, my love/Stay, my love


	87. Chapter 87

Squatting on the staircase with a likely expression of 'fuck-off, I am _not_ Inquisitoring right now', I briefly contemplate making a break for it.

No matter how I went about it or deliberated the best way to broach the shit-storm that was Nightmare, the picture floating to mind of Solas' reaction did a very speedy, very prompt, nose-dive.

Heads turn and legs walk faster as a noise somewhere between a whine and grunt rumbles from my throat. Probably cementing the idea that their 'Sacred Herald' was a stone throw away from being demented as I dismally wrap my arms around my knees and stare at as of yet unmoving blanket.

_Should've rubbed on him more, never gonna let me sex him up ever again. Gonna explode into wispy Fade farts an unfulfilled woman without ever Christening the War Table. Hate Thedas...hate Thedas so much._

From the worried sideways glances being tossed my way, the nonsensical muttering was not being limited to the confines of my brain. Didn't bother me though, I had much more important priorities to focus on. Like maintaining the freedom to nab two scoops of glorious Ancient Elven beef.

As I alleged; priorities.

Suddenly fabric rustles and is pushed aside, a second later and the damp figures of my comrades step out into the sunlight. Expressions neutral and maybe forced to give the impression of normalcy and casualness. However I had spent enough time with these men to notice when a facade was being plastered on. They had talked. And Solas doubtlessly hadn't minced words.

So this was it then. It was done. They knew and would try to put on a brave front to keep up moral and from losing hope. I could see it on Solas' face despite the veneer of gentility though he attempted to conceal it. He assumed his eyes weren't as telling as my own, but they were. He had been rattled by the Anchor's unexpected metamorphosis and was concerned for my future, I could see it as clearly as if it was written on paper. How long will I witness those shadows tainting every look, every touch, before the end? This had never been what I desired, never.

"Boss."

"Inquisitor."

"Feels like an eternity since we were here."

Warm, friendly; heartfelt hails of greeting as they come to offer salutes and fist bumps by way of reunion. The immediate easy camaraderie and openness in their actions alleviating a measure of the tension coiled inside my belly when I believed pity would be all that I would ever see when I spoke with them now.

"We'll see how excited you still are after the Advisors are done with us." I jest with a snort. "How'd you fair with the injured?" I ask as I turn with the others to begin the climb to the ward above. Anything to delay what I know will be the discourse from hell.

Smoothly imposing himself before the rest have a chance to respond, "as well as can be expected given our circumstance, but that is another matter." Sharing a silent look to the men as he slows his steps with a brush to my elbow to linger beside him. Only hesitating a moment to ensure our relative privacy before twisting to me with a brow quirked in challenge, "I have not forgotten the promise. I believe an answer is in order."

Well.

Poop.

"But the mee-" Already sedately trailing after our comrades. "-ting." I finish lamely. _No escaping now I guess_. Shoulders sag and its all I can do to hold in the dejected sigh as I follow his lead. _Fondling magnificent bubble butts was overrated anyway, right?_ Mentally weeping at the terrible injustice of it all. "That spokesman, Aulus, he jumped me the night before we made it to camp. It was..." Puffing a breath as I shake my head with a shrug, a little lost for words to describe what it had felt like. That _fire_... "I don't know what happened honestly. There was...a mist, a haze...then everything was paralyzed and burning. And the Anchor..." Dispassionately bringing veins of sage to bear between us. A coldness, the sinking creep of frightened despair beginning to rise once more as those ghostly branches faintly thrum and pulse beneath the midday sun. "The Anchor discharged...and now it's been this." I conclude numbly.

Long fingers softly skimmed emerald veins. "It is not such a fated thing," he states quietly before seeming to catch himself and his arm falls away.

He was right of course and I believed in Solas unequivocally, but it was still so raw. I knew what the future held, what an unrestrained Anchor could do. I trusted in him, _believed_ in him; but I _knew_. I knew and it was a struggle to shove the knowledge to the farthest reaches of my mind. I needed to think of other things, to look at the figure walking stoically beside me. To give me strength even for a moment and remind myself I couldn't break apart.

Not here, not in front of this man. Not when he would carry the memory through unending centuries. If my light was to be doused like all the others who came before me, it would spend the last of its rays to ensure it didn't take his along with it.

"It appears when you fought Aulus' hold, whatever chains restrained the Anchor were unshackled in the process." Low, somber; dragging me from my thoughts. I lift my gaze to the man who stared ahead with such grim solemnity. Seeing the shadows of pragmatism waging against fragile optimism as that brilliant mind pieced events together. Allowing for none of the dark assessments he must surely envision to slip past his lips as Solas pensively tread stone halls. "The energy alone would be enough to kill most mortals, that Aulus managed to survive such an explosion is a miracle. It is fortunate there was a mage nearby capable of placating it. Normal magic would have little effect of halting the Anchor's power."

Regret colored that melodious voice, a desire to apologize unmistakably infused beneath every word; striking horribly harder than if he had yelled in rage.

I felt ashamed of the deceit, for the purposeful impression it all stemmed from one terrified attempt to survive. Fleeting though it was, by wishing to skirt Nightmare I had in return saddled Solas with the image of being responsible for the Anchor's deterioration from his absence.

I almost welcomed his fury now.

"It...there wasn't a mage. And it didn't get so bad only from Aulus."

His chin tilts ever so slightly as beguiling greys slide to calmly regard my face, infinitely patient as he mutely waits for me to elaborate. An unreadable expression stamped on his usually unruffled demeanor, causing a nervous _ahem_ and swallow as I realized that perhaps Solas hadn't been quite as fooled as I originally thought.

_Oh balls...._

"I...I, _uhm_..."

Cool, composed, "whatever rules here has taken an interest in more than just our military presence." Solas remarks simply.

_Oh. Balls._

Breathing out a groan or maybe some sort of panicked wheeze -frankly it was anyone's guess at this point- before blurting in a mad rush, "I-wanted-to-see-you-and-I-went-into-the-Fade!"

Not. A thing.

Not even a goddamn twitch with that soft query of, "oh?"

Why; no how, how was Solas so patient? Was this an old man thing? _Yell at me already! You obviously know more than you're letting on -or have at least inferred it! Just end the floundering! Why are you making me dig my own grave so deep?!_ For fucks sake, was I sweating?

"Why are you doing this to me?" I desolately moan.

Folding his hands behind him with a poised air and halting to face me fully now as an eyebrow raises, " _I_ have done nothing. I am merely reserving judgment until you have been given a chance to speak. Should I not? Would you prefer I rile and berate without a clear understanding of events? The reality is, to scold you now serves nothing. As volatile as the Anchor has become, we have moved beyond that."

Yes! A tiny glimmer of hope. "Then you're not angry?"

"I did not say _that,_ either." A tired, somewhat disheartened, sigh passes Solas' lips when my expression crumbles. Removing the air of reined control as he moves to gently cup my face. Drawing me forward with a lingering kiss against my forehead while the warmth of his breath tickles my skin and the quiet sincerity of Solas' voice returns, " _Ir abelas, ma vhenan._ " An almost reluctance in his touch as Solas' warmth slowly leaves and my chin is tipped to meet haunting eyes of soulful beauty. "Your unhappiness was not my intent. If I am being honest, holding onto anger has proven difficult since our meeting. The lack of heat is a bit..." A frown faintly creases his brow and those striking greys slip away, unwilling to temporarily meet mine any longer. "...unnerving."

Now it was my turn to frown. "You're...weirded out because you can't stay mad?" Fighting a grin as I tried not to chuckle at the reasoning.

Such intensity lurked within their depths as the remark drags his attention back. An unfathomable emotion swimming across his features as Solas mutely stood with me in his hands for untold seconds. Effortlessly setting a race of my pulse and a flutter of my heart while offering nothing save an all-consuming regard.

"Partly, yes." Grave, unhesitatingly straightforward and unfairly seductive in its seriousness. A voice that was positively catastrophic to a bruised psyche already conflicted.

Fingers instinctively curl, tucking themselves in the wide leather of Solas' belt, wanting so desperately to touch him. "That doesn't so sound bad from where I'm standing." Grasp tightening as unconsciously I lean into his lithe body. Needing... _something_.

"It should." He counters, prompting a surprised blink from me. The stern severity with which Solas wielded those words made them appear almost harsh, like a blindsiding shock to the system. But what came next utterly abolished such insignificant concerns. "There is more here than you or I, to be lost or carved anew with any one act. Choices that will shape the world's very foundations, and yet, here we stand. In a time when we cannot afford to be distracted...I find myself here. Fascinated and torn by nothing save a look." Austere and stunning those eyes skim my face, tracing markings of Sylaise while his thumb languidly mirrored their path. "You have given me pause, _vhenan._ And I fear the depth of that affection." He acknowledges softly.

A breath, a catch. Just that simply, and words that could not have been more damning or disastrous lay forever between us.

" _Solas_... _I -_ "

" _Ugh._ This already?" Shattering the spell entirely as Sera enters our hallway and saunters to pass us without missing a beat. Wholly ignorant of what she had unwittingly interrupted and caring not in the least. "Should've known you'd start before the spit dried. Just save it for after, yeah? Not really wantin' to sit watching everyone with their thumbs up their arses longer than I have to."

"Pains me as it does to admit, you are right." Closed, distant; the cordial veneer smoothly back in place once again as his hands fall away and he silently retreats from my hold. "Foolish as the Wardens have proven to be, I doubt they may wait for deliberation. Akira." With a nod of respect Solas gestures for me to proceed them. His unspoken declaration that we were to return to our 'duty'.

Bereft, drowning in turmoil; he left me with no choice but to go. In ruined shambles, my heart driven into a jumbled state of mayhem; I was fully expected to be the calculating leader. To wish for nothing but victory and the salvation of the 'right' side.     

When was it my turn to declare fuck-all to the Inquisition and duty? When did I get my chance to laugh and stamp my refusal of another's desires for me?

Even as I sank in the wake Solas' feelings had wrought, it was all I could think about.

No, perhaps those thoughts had only grown; louder, more insistent. Would I lose my arm -maybe my life- and it would have been spent doing...what? _This?_ If there was a possibility the Anchor was cutting my time short, was _this_ how I actually wished to spend it?

Looking at the man walking beside me, who turned at the gaze studying him....

No. No, it wasn't.

 _He_ was who I wanted to spend my life on, who I wished to give the time I might have left. Solas required power to gain control of the Anchor? Well, it was a good thing the Inquisition was about to become even more flush with mages after Adamant then wasn't it?


	88. Chapter 88

"We have anything like that?" I ask.                           

" _Nrm..._ " Humming thoughtfully with a scratch of his chin. "Rocky's more of a demolition kind of guy, but he can probably whip something up that gets the job done." Bull concedes.

I look down at the diorama spread before us, a wicked smirk building as I studied the crude rendition of our plans. More satisfied and positive than I could have thought possible after encountering Nightmare. But it could work, it could well and truly work! I might have done it! I might have found that road to victory and oh...did it taste like sweet, sweet triumph.

"Leliana, any Wardens make their way into our clutches since we began harassing them?" Dragging our resident Spymaster's attention from whatever likely mental strategies she contemplated.

Unfurling her arms to instead lean over our 'war table', she supplies, "Dozens, Inquisitor. The latest was a trio attempting to covertly transport a box of powerful runes. They have generously been donated to the Inquisition's cause of course, and the Wardens are awaiting an escort out of our eastern camp." Calculating eyes slowly skimming the table, "We have yet to get anything useful from them, it seems Warden-Commander Clarel was careful in her summons." taking in details of our assault before returning to observe me once more. "Or is there something else you wanted from the Wardens, Inquisitor?"

Staring down at 'Adamant', "I'm not sure yet." I answer distractedly. Absently chewing my lip while I examined the totality of our plans alongside what I knew was supposed to happen in the near future. Still having this niggling sense that maybe this wasn't enough, that the shoe had yet to drop. "Those three Wardens, put them under guard a half-day from Adamant. There still might be something we can use them for, just have to figure out _what_."

Orlais wasn't ass-deep in demons and Mage slaves. Then add the very telling, very important fact there had yet to be sightings of a castle-sized spider scurrying the desert, and the whole situation categorically screamed 'ploy!'. Shit was way too peaceful and my hackles were standing on end because of it. What the hell was Nightmare up to, what was waiting for us behind those gates?

"We should tread cautiously, Inquisitor. There is more to consider than simply waylaying Corypheus' rise to power." Pulling me from the bothered reverie; casually repositioning a platoon without a word to a spot that took greater advantage of their skill-set. "Great battles thin the Veil, I suspect this area will be rife with demons when this is over. If the Inquisition isn't careful, we may do Corypheus' work for him. Someone must ensure the safety of those that remain."

 _Uh huh. Know where this is going..._ Lifting and rolling unassigned pieces in my hands with an inner sigh.

"So...nursemaids for the desert?" _Ding. Ding._ "I have officially never been so ecstatic to not be a part of something."

"Aw, come now, Hawke," grinning up at his friend beside him. "What's not to love about endless sand and anxiously waiting for something to try murdering you while you sleep?"

"The sand."

" _Hmm,_ shocking though it is, I must agree with our Apostate, Inquisitor. Leaving it in worse shape than when we found it sends the wrong message, my dear." Easily ignoring Hawke completely to offer her own voice. "Might I suggest stationing some of Cullen's templars to oversee efforts in the Approach. I daresay they would certainly fare better than the malcontents you gave forgiveness to."

Not missing the subtle twitch of Solas' brow at the barb as Cullen nods in thought. "Provided there are enough who make it through the coming battle. If need be, I tender my services as well, Inquisitor."

 _haaa...._ Already that feeling of harried expectation was creeping in, and it was all I could do to suppress a puffed exhale in response. "That's a problem for later. Let's see what we've got to deal with first before getting all _gung-ho_ on anything. **This** here is what I'm concerned with -winning this." Softly rapping with one of my block's in emphasis.

"I'm not an expert or anything," Alistair ventures, "but can't the Inquisition just use Solas' magical fisting?"

Wood and figures immediately scatter as fingers fumble, a startled, " _AHA-!"_ escaping before I hastily clamp a hand over my mouth to silence it.

"....I'm sorry?" Eyes wide, the hint of a blush beginning to bloom on his cheeks as sounds of mirth rumble through the room.

"Whoa! Boot-in-mouth. No, not that -I didn't mean-" embarrassed horror swift to fill Alistair's face as realization hits.

"Maker, Solas is going to be busy. That's a bit of _long_ work there. And he's brittle bones old -like a living corpse. That's just diabolic, Alistair, simply diabolical to suggest."

" _That_ was obviously not his intent, Champion." Frigid, positively steamy in its acidity. "Perhaps if one were ever allowed to finish-"

"Well, you'd be all about that if Alistair had his way." Palms raising placatingly at the chilling glower fixed on him. "Hey, hey, was just trying to save your rickety frail body. Andraste's knickers, fist away then..." Hawke mumbles in sour playfulness.

Wiping a hand down his face bashfully with a muttered, "Maker's breath..." before shaking his head and chuckling. "Foot. Mouth. What I _meant_ to say, could Solas teach some of the circle mages that spell with the stone flying from the Fade -or wherever it is. Where I'm standing, those few times I witnessed it, it appeared to be quite effective. Helps with the rampaging demons problem anyway."

"Even _if_ they were of a mind to learn, the time required to teach such a skill is impossible given current constraints. Still, the idea has merit." Solas offers kindly.

"Then this is to be our course is it?" Cullen states after a hard perusal of rebuilt plans. Pride and a touch of lighthearted confidence woven into that soldier's bearing. "I must say, I am impressed. When the Inquisitor declared nothing be done until your return, I doubted the wisdom behind it. I could never have foreseen these results." Solemnly his gaze lifts and he turns to me, "I owe you an apology, Inquisitor, but more than that, I owe one to each of you here. There is no doubt that if the day is won, it will be because of the decisions made in this room by the worthy men and women standing before me. I am truly sorry." Bowing his head in somber respect. "It will be an honor to fight at your sides."

Hearing this - _seeing_ this...

It was a touching thing to witness, Cullen admitting his fault. He might not be able to fully comprehend it, but I did. I knew that the people who would be the real reason we triumphed were standing in this room. The expertise, the combined wealth of knowledge from these men and women; _that_ would be the cause of our success. It would be the belief and strength of these souls before me who wielded our victory.

They had been the ones to recognize the potential of my paltry tricks; how best to utilize them, where to be coyly strategic and where to be relentless brutes. While I simultaneously wanted to thank them -to divulge just how vital they truly were, I envied their naiveté of the future. Selfish though I was, I didn't wish to saddle them with burdens they were never supposed to suffer. Adamant would be taken, their Inquisition would prevail, and they would all live to see its end. That...this was more than enough.

"I will second the Commander." Her silken Orlesian lilt joining Cullen's direct admission. "We are past titles and upbringing. The Inquisition was founded to be a beacon of hope to the people, not simply a means of defeating Corypheus. Along the way I had forgotten the vision Justinia had always intended. Thank you for reminding me of it, and of what it can still be."

I watched as self-conscious grins emerge, listened as murmurs sprung to wave apologies away; and only one thing came to mind.

 _Perfect_.

I was an outsider peeking inside the window of a dysfunctional, ridiculous, marvelous family. Quietly gazing from the sidelines and happily smiling at the gifted individuals who were becoming more and more like a tight-knit clan whether they desired it or not. Experiencing none of the loneliness one might rightly expect, but instead...accomplishment. A glowing contentment that I swore I would treasure and protect in the coming days.

Committing to memory a sight likely never to repeat again.

~

_Uhhh..._

Gods I was exhausted. You'd assume certain matters of the State and political intrigue would be put on the backburner, but nope. Leliana had been right there waiting with them. Everyone else --the lucky bastards-- had taken their leave once Adamant had been decided. Departing to see about readying troops and informing captains, or merely running off to seek some leisure while they had the opportunity. And I, I had been abandoned to wilt through boring correspondence asking for favors or proof of my 'divinity' before support would be 'granted' to the Inquisition.

I understood give-and-take, scratch-my-back-I-scratch-yours, yadda, yadda... however many of these supposed 'proposals' were far from being anywhere close to a symbiotic relationship. They just incited me to pull a Sera and send them poop in a nicely wrapped box. If anything, they were an offense to common sense. Case in point, who the fuck believed I was moronic enough to read things like, 'partial command of Inquisition troops in exchange for gaining access to the ancestral tomes' and think, 'Yes! Totally!'?

Oh yeah, _stellar_ negotiating skills there, Lord Limpdick.

It was great Josephine wanted to keep me in the loop on who our potential bedmates were and all that, but then letters of 'extreme import' such as these were getting shoved in my face... And I just have to wonder if this was being done on purpose to watch me have an aneurism.

In the end, I tapped out in defeat midway through and marched the hell out of there. If I stroked out, I knew exactly which Antivan Disney Princess to blame.

I didn't know how Inquisitors of _any_ timeline dealt with that mountain of bullshit and honestly, I wasn't about to urge myself to try. I strove for those trusted men and women at my back, not some faceless ones who I would never see and it was folly to believe otherwise. Inevitably a time would arrive where those two realities would clash and a choice would be forced. Life was never so simple as to give everything without demanding a sacrifice of something else in return.

Balance. There was always an eventual balance.

 _Now if I could just locate where my Thedas balance has deemed to stash himself._ I think grumpily.

~

The smell of herbs filled my nose; crisp, clean. Transposing the smell of parchment and dank of mortar within the diminutive chamber. Here I found him, standing in an unseeing daze over samples inside the room commandeered previously. Concern laced with grief, creasing his brow into a despondent frown while he silently hunched, an image of a man who had become lost within the labyrinth of his mind.

Wishing for anything but that, I step through the open doorway, a painful twinge wrenching my chest at the sight, knowing its cause.

"I hath come to get it on with thee!" I boom, slamming the door closed with a hook of my leg. Pulling Solas from his dark reverie with a preoccupied blink. The expression vanishes and stunning eyes track my progress as I stride for his cot, his body turning to lean a hip against the table with a casual fold of his arms. "Remove thy pants whilst I paw thine bounteous rumpus. Tis time to be manhandled."

Spurring an eyebrow to raise at the decree. "Such honeyed words, _my heart_." he dryly counters. The amused look of wanting to snort or perhaps roll his eyes warming his features.

Probably both.

"Indeed." I magnanimously nod before plopping down to sit on the edge and begin the arduous war of tugging off fitted footwear. "Prepare thine body for ravishment."

The soft chuckle changes to a playful hum as his eyes narrow with humor. Seeming content to watch the struggle as he remains unmoving. "Is that what it will be? Do I not get a say in the matter?"

"Well I suppose if you want to take some of the naughty out of it. Though, kinda defeats the purpose of a 'ravishment' then." Grunting as one boot successfully plunks to the floor.

"Ah, of course. Then I presume any ire from recent foolhardiness is to be forgotten?"

"In- _dnnghh..._ " _Thunk_. "Indubitably." Leaning back on my elbows with a relieved sigh as I curl and stretch freed toes before reclining fully with a giant smile and spread of my arms in invitation. Excitedly clasping and opening my fingers at Solas to help him along.

The subtle hint of a stifled smirk passes Solas' lips as his chin tilts and he studies me from the desk. " _Hmm..._ and if the choice is to first speak before succumbing to coy inducements?"

"Not a problem, speak away, snuggle bunny. I've got this _un_ covered." Setting my brows wiggling suggestively while I tried not to giggle at his opinion of my seduction skills, intent on giving him a show if I must. Greys darkened to rich smoke follow every movement, losing their air of humor as they silently observe suddenly nervous fingers glide over pale skin to delicate straps. The minute tightening of knuckles and tautly strung tension radiating from his body as fabric is slowly drawn aside bringing a faint heat to flush my cheeks.

Dark and consuming. That was the visage that watched and waited. The image of a piercing patience that was sharply thrilling in its evident restraint. To have Solas' undivided attention was already arresting beyond reason without throwing nakedness into the mix. To have it now; to be the sole focus of such an intense regard was simply... _intimidating_.

It was a thunderous race in my veins, a sizzling tingle across my skin to have those eyes on me, as if his hands already ghosted over bared flesh. In all aspects we were still new lovers, had yet to reach the familiarity of flagrant nudity and level of unabashed openness. The desire to please and wish to be viewed with passion still a fresh fear that required time to dispel; time that I prayed I might be fortunate enough to receive.

Solas moved at last as hands languidly traveled downward to the hooks of my pants. His lithe body straightening with a stifled groan barely above a whisper. " _Vhenan_ ," moving to kneel at my feet before reaching to gently catch wandering fingers and clasp them in his. "wait. We will need to move carefully. Leliana trained her scouts well, their concern lies with the Inquisition's continued prosperity. The average soldier will not be so discriminating." Lightly urging me to sit up with a tender pull, giving me no choice but to halt and frustratingly meet the undisguised longing lurking within his gaze. "The Inquisitor's comings and goings will draw particular scrutiny, soldiers note more than you may assume." He finishes softly.

I slip from the cot to join Solas on the floor, sliding to straddle his lap as he wordlessly makes room and relaxes to rest on both knees. Utterly undeterred as he inhales deeply and large palms instinctively come to lay high on my thighs. "It doesn't matter, Solas, it's our business. Who cares what we do?" Wrapping my arms around wide shoulders with a low purr as I press close. Quite starting to prefer this current position as hips unconsciously undulate over the growing thickness trapped between us and my attention lingers on the lushly kissable mouth mockingly near.

A quiet hiss then strong hands shift higher to firmly still the seductive roll. "A great many." He breathlessly states. I felt the nonplussed frown and pout beginning to form at his words, their appearance bringing a touch of seriousness to shadow Solas' gaze before his eyes narrow. "The nobility...what are your impressions when you speak with them? Surely the Lady Josephine has shared her own thoughts on the subject." He remarks smoothly; immediately piquing a sense of wariness with the astute air in which he posed the question, as if it was meant to lead.

And I wasn't certain I was going to like where this was going one bit.

Fingers fist the fabric beneath my hands, hoping to keep him in place as I squeeze him tighter. Worrying he intended to move and separate us. "I hear plenty from Josephine -and Leliana, to wonder why no one's knifed some of them repeatedly in their sleep. I couldn't care less what those people want -or think, Solas."

"You should." Stern, almost cold despite the heat with which he held me and I felt the rise of temper within my breast.

"Why? Materialistic pigs who stomp peasants into the dirt. Greedy, self-centered shit stains who demand everything and offer nothing. Why should I mind anything they think? The Inquisition runs around saving everyone but why should I be the one to go out of my way to put them above anyone else?"

"Because you are not as they expected. You are not a human, _vhenan_." Solas ends solemnly.

The muted sadness -the regret that plagued his voice, a hurt that was as foreign to me as the overwhelming bigotry infesting Thedas. So much of the anger wilted in that instant with that single admission. "We are seen as little more than ornate furniture -if not the titillating pet upon occasion," a small deprecating scoff issuing from his lips. "An elf given a position of authority would ruffle more than a few feathers, but proclaim they are a messenger of their faith -it is a precarious line, Akira. I would not see you harmed because of another's ignorance."

Arms hug me close and with that the last of the ire fades. The vestiges of fight washing away as understanding took root and the expression that could hold me so enthralled became painfully clear.

Concern; selfless and achingly sincere.

 _Such a silly man,_ I muse as a rueful smile blooms.

My fingers ease, moving across soft fabric to the even softer skin of his jaw. Cradling the adored visage within my hands wordlessly as a thumb tenderly strokes over his bottom lip. Tracing the plush suppleness while quietly memorizing that handsome face. "Getting fatalistic, huh? It's fine, the Inquisition has more than enough coffers now that we shouldn't have to be so beholden to the nobility. They can sulk and piss themselves all they want and I'm not going to bother. I won't let anyone dictate my life and I certainly won't trouble myself over what some asshats think. You worry too much in your old age, sugar plum."

With a measured sigh Solas covers my hand with his and turns into the caress, looking somewhat morose as his eyes close and warm lips press to the center of my palm. The heat of his touch lingering while his chin nuzzles my skin indulgently before long fingers curl to reluctantly drag my hand to instead lay above his heart.

"Coffers or no, those 'asshats' have the political clout to spur a religious uprising. One the Chantry will be more than eager to stand behind. The Inquisition is still green. It has neither the influence, nor soldiers, to withstand such an assault. For now, give them nothing in which to use against you. Taking an apostate as a lover will earn few favors --taking one of the Elvhen even less so. Regardless of incredulity, it may be viewed as the stirrings of a war." The hand over mine tightens, holding it there until I could feel the steady beat of his heart as greys unclouded by uncertainty stared into the brown of my own. "Care and time are all that I ask, _vhenan_."

"Solas..." Hesitating and unsure.

I wanted none of it, wanted to rebuke every demand but I hesitated. Instincts balked against surrendering even a fracture of happiness to spare the displeasure of fools but this was for him, _he_ had asked.

"I...will think about it." Experiencing a stab of defeat and sense of _wrong_ beginning to crawl inside my stomach simply from that paltry concession.

He remained silent; merely holding me for long moments as affection and somber sympathy cast the grey of his eyes into devastating contrast before low and inviting that melodic timbre comes once more. "Thank you."

His hands moved then, pulling me into the siren brush of a kiss. Sweet, intoxicating, electrifying. As provocatively magnetic and bewitching as all the others despite the tempered control of his lips. Yet I did not become lost as a thought drifted. It persisted and endured, refusing to perish. Even when Solas drew away to preserve an appointment with Cassandra and spoke of an intention to discretely seek me after, it hovered and pestered. As I departed first in an effort to uphold pretenses and trudged the hall from his room it grew and festered. Swelling until hands fisted and teeth brutally clenched at the injustice.

Born not from a misguided desire to protect their lover from harm, but appearances.

Never had it passed his lips, perhaps never even crossed his mind to shroud our relationship in secrecy because the Inquisitor's lover would be a target. Instead politics and influence drove it. Funny enough, Solas was the one person who that concern would never apply. It was more probable that  _I_ would be the weakness, that _I_ would be the vulnerability that could be captured and used against _him_. At least if that had been the root of this it would not sting. It would not feel so _wrong_.                                         

Appearances, discretion.

_Ties._

Concepts that those in power needlessly clung to at the cost of all else and I cared absolutely zero about. Concepts that perhaps explained much of Lavellan's and Solas' relationship. Though Solas may indeed be a secretive man regarding his personal life, I had wondered about the seemingly staggering lack of knowledge squad-mates held concerning their romantic entanglement at times. Was it an oversight, time, a simple show of respect? No one traveled as tight-knit as we did and not get a damn good whiff of something afoot.

It was not in doubt Lavellan likely respected Solas' wishes for privacy, but was it perhaps not also her desire as well? Protect her standing and duty to her newfound people, maintain the facade of a strong resolute leader unhindered by selfish personal dreams? Resolutely build alliances and foster the connections necessary to thrive at the cost of private transparency?  

Possibly. Or possibly not even close.

Long before I had found him in the flesh, Solas failed to strike me as a man who would deny his lover affection within the small company of trusted comrades. Secretive man or no; a stray touch would linger, an endearment of love would slip. I believed not for a millisecond he was a man who would turn Lavellan away if she had sought his touch within plain view of the entire team.

No, there had been more than mere respect for his sense of propriety. And it brought a sense of fury and sorrow for the man who suffered such loneliness.

How long had Solas existed solely as a symbol to his people, a God? The honorable rebel or treacherous trickster responsible for salvation or heinous ruination of a civilization? When was the last any had _seen_ him; not as the instrument he had become, but merely as the man he was and naught else?

Years, millennia; for how long had Solas endured until someone had only sought him for the simple desire of _him_?

That hint of surprise that softened into happy warmth when fingers threaded with his in passing, that contented light that gentled beautiful eyes when given a hug merely because I craved his presence...Such simple acts of adoration that had been so common place and taken for granted in my world...yet were received with amazed pleasure, as if being given an unexpected gift...

I couldn't be wrong, I knew I couldn't be wrong.

Showing _he_ held importance despite the possible objection of others, that _he_ was cherished regardless of those present; I knew I wasn't wrong in this.

That expression of being slightly thrown before it inevitably gave way to quiet happiness with every impulsive caress despite an audience; that expression of startlement that was gradually becoming less frequent as open affection became familiar and perhaps even anticipated...

I wasn't wrong. I wasn't wrong in treating Solas simply as a man adored and nothing more. I wasn't wrong in staying true to my desires and showing I was proud to stand at the side of my chosen...

I wasn't wrong.

_I couldn't be wrong._


	89. Chapter 89

I was strung too tight.

Frustration, fear, unfulfilled desire, anxiety, stress; countless emotions running riotous in my mind and heart. Driving me insane and causing a terrible restless to take residence. My one spark of solace was busy and in an inconceivable twist, had actually piled onto the turmoil minutes prior.

War, demons, corrosive godly power of doom, assclowns, dying horribly, titles, responsibility. Saving innocents and friends alike. Each piece jamming together and stacking all at once upon my shoulders with no salvation in sight and the one thing that could have helped had cock-blocked me with 'discretion!'.

I believe I could now safely confirm that the Inquisition majorly sucked.

Walking from the shadows of Griffon's halls and out into the bailey beyond, I felt it even more keenly. How eerie -to see the busy preparation and nervous excitement of soldiers. As if time were being stalled for me alone while all around the world continued to spin. Never had I experienced the like until looking out at that sea of bustle; that feeling of being so insignificant and alone. Of being so _unextraordinary_.

Just as quickly as the fleeting idea of aiding in our departure drifted to mind it was brushed away and discarded. Mustering any of the usual fuck-yeah attitude was impossible, and it had everything to do with the visceral _knowing_ churning within my breast. An intuitive knowledge that all was about to change and there would be no return. Whatever lay beyond Adamant's walls would set a course for good or ill and there would be no coming back once the first heel struck stone.

If I surrounded myself with recruits it would prove to merely be an endeavor in professional brooding, I sensed it as surely as the mortar beneath my feet. And while I silently stood observing their labor I realized I did not wish to spend my last hours before blood and death became my reality worthlessly languishing about it. I wanted something better than the wracking unease that would haunt every waking hour until this deed was done.

I wanted to laugh and feel the joys to being alive and whole; to be in the presence of friends. If they weren't already with the Chargers, likely Dorian and Bull were in each other's company. And in honesty; if they were, I did not want to disturb them. I hoped they were together enjoying having their lover near instead of readying for battle. The brutality and inescapable losses of what was to come would arrive regardless, they deserved the time to cherish the certainty of the present.

But the others...?

Since Vivienne was as much fun as an etiquette lesson on napkin arrangements and I could spot Blackwall occupied with a couple of scouts, they were out. Cole was incognito doing Spirits knows what, Solas was with Cassandra, and Sera had been on the antsy side with all the talk of demons and cramped proximity of numerous mages. Which left me with Varric, Hawke, and Alistair -wherever they may be.

Knowing those three; if I located one, I would probably located them all.

Surprisingly, as I began searching through the bailey and moved to the inner ward, they were ridiculously easy to find -well, Hawke was. Weaving between scattered equipment and people on the way to the East parapet stairwell, I sighted him. Raven locks amongst an ocean of them; it was the pale crystalline gaze a head above the average man and distinct bouncy swagger moseying through the throng without a care in the world that made it simple enough.

Medium side-step to the partially filled barrel on my right and quick bend to snatch a fist-sized sack before vaulting to stand atop a nearby tall crate, I take meticulous aim. Following his trajectory for a second, I let fly the small pouch of flour.

Straight into the wrong man.

 _Blap! "PHHBBT!!"_ Sputtering and coughing as he takes a direct hit to the face and a cloud of white erupts.

_Oops._

"Sorry, sorry! That was meant for him! Sorry!" I yell with a point to the guffawing Hawke and wince at the poor sap plastered in grain who merely answered with a frown and coughed harrumph before getting back to work.

I hop down to wait for a still chuckling Hawke to join me. Leveling my friend the dirtiest look and feigned glare as he comes forward with a snorting shake of his head. "Nice shot Master Assassin."

"You know, next time I'm going to pack it with dung, then we'll see how cocky you are."

"Wow, that's just mean to the guy nowhere near me. Such villainy from the holy Inquisitor!"

"Asshole." I toss back with a chuckle. "Well no --I was a bandit, so villainy is in the job description."

"Of which we all know is our true calling, Dingbat Willie." Hawke admits sadly.

"I know, it's simply despairing we had to put the booty plundering behind us, Bug Eyed Dickens."

An arm wraps around my shoulders and his head tips to stare up at the heavens as Hawke woefully adds, "rest in peace dreams of booty pinching..."

"Oh, the booty." I nod with a regretful sniffle.

"Aye, the bounteous boo-- wait, are we bemoaning treasure or the derriere?"

"Pretty sure they're the same thing." I say with a laugh. Hawke's features scrunch in acknowledgement above me and I poke his side to get his attention when I suddenly remember something that had caused many a night of piqued jealousy and curiosity. "Leliana mentioned runes; but did ya'll pilfer anything neat while I was gone? Like weapons that make it rain or sporadically cause it's host to vomit gold? Ooh! Maybe a box that emits ghostly wails for absolutely no reason whatsoever when its opened. Yeah, that would be awesome to use to fuck with people -I could have a lot of fun with that."

Possibility of groovy loot or not, I was so jelly he'd gotten to spend the last two weeks outlawing it up instead of being stuck in the ass-end of nowhere.

"Neat? Eh." He replies with lukewarm sway of his head. "More along the usual sort. Runes were the only magical bobbles we confiscated as far as I'm aware of. Everything else was either letters or siege essentials -and all boring." Shrugging then proceeding to gently pat my hair like a docile pet. "Sorry, your Holy Bosomness."

" _Tsk!_ Really? Come on Wardens!" Grinning and giving a hard poke of his ribs that made a surprised _oomph_ emerge, "so disappointing, was crossing my fingers for world domination goodies. Guess I'll never fulfill dreams of wielding the ultimate barf staff." I sigh without heat; not particularly shocked nor saddened by the news. I had figured a few trivial enchantments would be the greatest of our hauls and it seemed I had anticipated correctly. Still, too bad there hadn't been something goofy among the spoils, it would have been a nice distraction for the day.

"Well, hold on now." Raising a finger and appearing to muse through an idea. "It might not be wild golden eruptions, but there _might_ be a minor control enchantment in the mix. Tweak it a little, slap it on an item, and wallah! -got yourself an object of jolly mayhem. I did something similar for an old guard friend of mine for her birthday. Had an enchanting savant and his father forge a sword that causes horrendous constipation in anyone who attempts to steal it -best present ever in my opinion, was actually very tempted to keep it. Anyway, could definitely look to see if we can bring your barf staff to life. Kind of." He merrily adds.

" _Pfft,_ yeah right. There isn't anything like that." As if I would fall for that. Hawke was obviously trying to pull my leg. "And even _if_ there was, I would want it nowhere near me. The way things go, it's basically guaranteed to backfire horribly and I'm going to be the one in need of relievers. Nope, not touchin' that obvious crap trap."

Laying a palm over his heart with a short chuckle, "dead serious. My vow on my stupendous bedroom skills." Hawke swears as he pivots to stand with the other lifted high and a devilish smirk bathes his face. "Promise it won't backfire and you'll be shittin' in the breeze normally."

My eyes roll and I puff a giggle. "Such an enabler."

"This is very true. See what happens when my walking conscience leaves me to my own devices? Pure genius."

Not bothering to suppress the snort, "probably closer to insanity, but yeah, we'll just go with that." I tease while ineffectively trying to glance around the ward, much too short to really see over the provisions or the men gathering them. "Speaking of, where is Varric by the way? I haven't seen him since the counsel, I assumed he'd be fastened to your gangly body or something."

"One: not 'gangly', it's strapping, you pocket-sized monster." He huffs after producing one absurdly realistic feminine gasp of outrage. "Second: last I knew he was on a mission to collect 'research' for another book. Might still be with Krem, but it's really anyone's guess when his inspiration strikes."

Well, dang. I wanted to witness Varric's reaction to the idea of a ludicrous doom gadget. I mean, how magnificent would an item that doesn't murder anyone but instead generates something like uncontrollably irritable bowels be?

Boom! Instant kingdom conquering right there. Just solved Thedas world peace.

Wait! No. Hide its existence until it can be used later against Corypheus.

_Oh...oh yes..._

Raising a fist to the sky, "I must make this thing!" I fiercely declare.

"Huh?" Giving me a confused blink.

"The Wand of Colons-!"

" _Yiee_ , name it something else-"

"-my slow friend! You're behind, keep up! Onward to the Room of Wonders!" Triumphantly pointing West.

"Treasure room's in the South..."

Shifting, "-Room of Wonders!"

~

Truly, I had been kidding when asking about the Inquisition's finds --just being a regular busy-body if you will. However the moment the vision of booping Corypheus the Demi-God drifted to mind...

Done.

Fate: sealed. An image too wondrous to deny and not make reality.

 _Totally not sorry_. I smirk to myself as Hawke and I stroll for the armory turned looted-goods storage.

In honesty this would be the first since taking the Keep that I had wandered these particular parapets. Seriously, simply because you thrash some bad guys then proceed to invade their gigantic base doesn't mean you automatically have a reason for skipping to every corner of the bloody thing.

Ten privies? Heck yeah! Never have to wait in line to piss again. Twenty-seven storage rooms you say? Well who doesn't enjoy the extra space to house their obscene amount of knickknacks?! Two halls that may as well be labeled grand-halls on top of the one it already has? Okay, now it's time for the side-eye Griffon Keep.

So I _might_ not be aware of exactly _where_ the janitor's closets are or the newest 'treasure room'. And Hawke _may_ have had to lead the way, but really, what sane person would? At least I _appeared_ to know where the hell I was going and at the end of the day, wasn't that always important?

I could admit though, Cassandra -for I was confident it had to be her doing; had settled on the perfect place in which to temporarily safeguard any commandeered goods. Nestled in the South corner-most tower atop the highest quarter of the Keep with its non-existent windows and catwalks converging at an angle to lead to a lonely squat staircase; it was certainly a clever choice with its sole entrance in or out. Archers at a constant patrol on adjacent battlements and causing a watch overlap; it created easier manning while simultaneously requiring fewer additional soldiers than other locations within the fortress would. Being a soaring tower, any attempts to fly or scale it in order to gain entrance would be immediately spotted while even the deepest dungeons held the threat of covert breaches from those who might possess the determination to dig.

There had definitely been a question about the decision initially as I followed Hawke. However when I took a minute to ponder the choice, I had to concede the logic of it. Magic, pickaxes, chisels, Dwarves; they weren't exactly heavy machinery and dynamite. They could tunnel without much notice if they so desired and no one would be the wiser. Often I was reminding myself that consistently applying my world's rationale was a sure-fire way to potentially leave a huge vulnerability. An outcome that had the potential to turn even the most seemingly trivial mistake dangerous, and one that could never be afforded to happen.

The guards posted at the stairs made no move to hinder us as we came forward but I saluted the two of them with a raise of my left arm anyway for good measure. There was no missing the green freak show that marked me as Inquisitor, but it was still awkward to march past people without even acknowledging their presence, it just felt strange to consciously do it. Months in Thedas and I had yet to learn the art of avoiding eye contact with the lowly locals, oh whatever would the prim nobles say.

Disciplined soldiers that they were; any outward sign that my recognition was accepted did not crack those proud militant bearings stiffening their spines. Though I could swear there was a softening in their rigid expressions and a brightness that flickered in their eyes when we passed but, eh, probably my imagination. Doubtful they cared about much of anything other than their shift ending and getting out from under this scorching sun; a sentiment I whole-heartedly sympathized with. Deserts blew.

Luckily after Adamant we could one finger salute deserts in tasteful farewell and never have to set foot in one again. I might not be giddy with dancing enthusiasm for the battle of Corrupt Puppet Fortress but boy was I more than ready to leave this part of Orlais.

Goodbye to microscopic mites and hello again to mutant ticks.

"Maker's bullocks, I didn't realize we'd seized this much rubbish. Glad I'm not the one who has to catalog this mess." Hawke scoffs as he makes for the center of the chamber before pausing to slowly spin in place, likely in an effort to take in the same sight I was.

How had they managed to cram so much junk in here, from first glance outside the space couldn't possibly be that large to begin with! Furs, skins of every dimension and range of colors imaginable it seemed peeked and draped over chests and barrels alike. Piled high to nearly brush the ceiling as racks of weapons and lustrous shields consumed the section of wall to our left and even bled over to other portions of the room. What was in the barely visible crates beneath dozens of blankets was a mystery for the ages and the boxes of varying sizes scattered throughout was even more so.

A heap. A clusterous jumbly heap of clutter, that is what it had the appearance of.

......

 _Holy. Balls_.

"This is what it looks like right before you add, 'just one more special thing' and it all comes tumbling down and buries you alive."

Swiveling back with a hike of his brows, "fifty royals if you can get the bear skin without toppling it." smiling with a jab of his thumb at the beastly stack beside him.

A very unladylike grunt and noise are my prompt response. "If I'm going to be smothered it's going to be in pursuit of The Ring of Bowels. Runes?"

"Uh..." Scanning the hoard for a moment and even rotating back and forth before giving a hopeless gesture. "Well, I'm sure they should be in here somewhere. Maybe. Possibly." Hawke audibly mutters with a c'est la vie wave. "Search for a chest with silver engravings of Griffons covering the lid and about the size of a man's torso. You take one end, I take the other, and we try not to upset the delicate balance. If there's a muffled scream, know I died gallantly."

"I'll know you died by fluffy inanimate objects."

Already vanishing from sight behind countless pelts, "shh...no one needs to know that." Comes his conspiratorial murmur.

Pivoting away with another amused snort and chortle, I begin the search at my designated end. Using some of the utmost care of my life to gingerly peel back and pull aside furs and cloth alike in an attempt to get a sense of what lay concealed underneath. Working in eased, comfortable silence for untold minutes with only the rustle and scrape of our hunt to break the peaceful stillness of the room until a terrified yell rends the air.

"LOOK OUT!!"

Instantly whipping around at the alarmed call, _"HO FUCK!"_ before immediately rearing back just as fast to knock into the mound behind me. Very nearly capsizing it all as I flatten against it and avoid the thing that lands with a hushed _floop!_ inches from my toes.

" _HAHAHA!_ Maker your face! _AHAHAHA!"_ Stumbling over and clutching his knees as he bends to retrieve the horrid object he'd tossed as he continues to hoarsely cackles. "P-priceless... _ahahaha_..." He manages after straightening and wiping his eyes, visibly making an effort to get his mirth under control. "Like it? Spotted it during one of the first raids. Nothing special about it, why it was travelling is beyond me but it was so atrociously glorious I couldn't leave it behind. Magnificent huh?" Cheerfully waving it close to my face.

Expression scrunching into a comical cringe, " _Dude..._ what the shit?" Uncertain if I wanted to laugh or shriek in terror at the 'teddy bear' in Hawke's grasp. "This is the thing you send as a message to your enemies that they're about to die terribly, not give to a kid." I can't help but snicker as I reach for it.

"Maybe children need a good scare -or in this instance, deep mental scarring."

"That's certainly one outcome." I agree with a smirk as I roll the doll over in my hands.

Lord, it was as if I was a child again myself. Back when toymakers still had a disconnect between 'whimsical cuddly cute' and eternal nightmare inducing. It had some sort of burlap material for a body, large threaded stitching for seams and joints, and either burns or dark stains from questionable sources that discolored many a spot like a creepy patchwork print. The bear with its torn out sockets was right up there for one of the most hellish toys that wasn't intended to be that I'd seen. If it had the added boost of being animatronic, it might well have taken the cake.

Small consolation Thedas, small consolation.

Huffing a disbelieving breath and handing it back, "jeez, imagine if it talked. There's the answer to getting grown adults to curl into a ball and cry."

The moment the cracked jest left my mouth it was as if the clouds above had parted on Hawke's face. A shining glee surfaced and it read as anything but angelic virtue. In a snap it brought a quirk of my brow as I studied him suspiciously. Fairly confident that whatever it was, I was about to happily enable and subsequently get into loads of shit for.

 _Bah, how angry can the advisors really get on the eve of battle?_ I wager with an inner shrug. Sometimes you just have to let chaos reign. 'Twas good for the soul.

"Speak? _Nmm..._ no...but walk however...." Hawke rambles off innocently, the absolute picture of idle musing.

As if the boy was fooling anyone.

"Uh huh, let's hear it. Spill, you big tease." Crossing my arms while fighting the smile threatening to spread from ear-to-ear.

"Thought we were here for runes, how fickle Andraste's Herald is!"

"As fickle as a randy sailor on shore leave. Spill."

"Well..." Fingers start to fiddle with the doll's limbs, leisurely making them stretch and clap as Hawke's attention slips from me and focuses on the bear in his hands instead. "say there was a way to imbue magic into a desired object...one that allowed a mage to control said object for a short period...but it might not exactly be...approved of..." He surmises.

Wasn't appro-?

_Ooh..._

_Sigh._ Really, did every man here doubt the depth of my conviction when I declared something to be the truth of my mind?

"You're thinkin' we hex it? Not gonna to lie, it would be hilarious to mess with people but you sure it would work, have you tried it before?"

The potential for frightening the living daylights out of unsuspecting friends was beautiful but that was operating under the assumption Hawke could actual _do_ it. I mean having a magically imbued _anything_ prancing around was assured nuclear Sera freak-out gold. And though I hadn't intended to bother Iron Bull, the fact the bear positively screamed 'I'll swallow your soul!' without the aid of magic was simply too tempting. A chance to prank the Master of Spying and Trolling? Yes please, sign me up stat.

 _Scoff!_ "Excuse you, but if I can summon blizzards from my arse, I'm certain I can move a measly doll!"

"You shoot ice out your ass-"

"You know what I mean!" Hawke huffs.

I pinch my lips together doing my best not to laugh while insulted grumbles and pouty remarks about 'demanding wenches' drift from a rather sulky Hawke. Raptly watching in grotesque fascination as a short parrying knife is drawn from the folds of his robes and a sleeve is pushed up with a hook of his pinky.

"Wait. Use me, it was my idea anyway."

"No, it was _my_ idea -and pass." He cheekily chirps. "Besides making it a rule not to go around cutting my friends; I would prefer I _didn't_ piss off the oddly polite mage who may, or may not, be able to fuck with me when I sleep."

_Can't argue with that._

"Good point." I concede with a chuckle then reflexively wince in sympathy despite being prepared when blade touches skin.

"You know, this reminds me of a favor Varric and I did for that guard friend I mentioned earlier." He comments conversationally even as crimson wells and a thin trail of blood appears.

Following every motion as though mesmerized as the blade is calmly wiped clean against a thigh and returned to its hidden sheath beneath his robes, "She asked you to perform blood magic?" The amused skepticism was plainly written on my face and voice but I was willing to see how Hawke would spin this. Aveline was as likely to do that as she was to burst into spontaneous song and dance but hey, this was Thedas, anything was possible.

Throwing me the harried side-eye for a moment before answering, "no, not blood magic. A retrieval. Of the human variety." A grin of delighted remembrance flits across his face as the doll's torso is used to dab the wound and a dreamy cast fills Hawke's gaze. Seemingly becoming absorbed within the memory even as the now familiar mist of vermillion begins to float and shroud us. Tickling and caressing but not burning as I had first feared as I restrain the urge to skim my fingers through the haze. "We were volun-ordered to locate a criminal who was on the run. Easy enough job with Varric's contacts --or so we thought. Aveline forgot to mention the criminal being a mage so we were in for a treat when we busted down the door of his hideout. In we rush, completely heroic and fabulous, and _plop!_ Right down a well."

" _..._ wha-? A well? Where'd the well come from?"

Snapping his fingers, "exactly!"

"W-" I manage before giving up entirely and burying my face in my hand. " _Hahaha_ , your stories make no goddamn sense. How have you survived this long? _Hahaha._ "

Sparing a wink, "one part brilliance, three parts cockroach." The epitome of self-satisfied magician beaming down at me as a nameless symbol is traced in the air.

Whatever I had been about to say lodges in my throat, the teasing reply withering on my tongue.

It almost appears as if the bloody fog glowed for a split-second; however for as quick as it was, it felt as though it may as well have been a trick of the imagination. Yet whether it glowed or not was inconsequential as the haze gently whirled and wafted. Swirling in a languid sphere that might have brought forth a somewhat therapeutic sensation with its tranquility before it flowed to settle over the lifeless form in Hawke's palm. Seeming to converge and lay like a second skin for a hairsbreadth then it is simply gone, vanished as rapidly as a starved plant soaking up meager rain.

Mute and amazed I lean in. Watching the ugly doll resting in Hawke's grasp, waiting beside him with bated breath to witness what would happen next. Eagerly waiting.

And waiting.

" _Uhh...hm_." Hawke mumbles sheepishly after flicking a glance at me. "That should have worked." He states with a rattle of the stationary bear. "Maybe I didn'-"

_gurlggurlggurlg...._

"Did it-"

"Was that-"

Jerking our gazes to share a look before whipping them back to the toy in his hand.

_gurlggurlggurlg...._

Again that thready gurgle rumbles and this time there was no mistaking the source.

Beaming a highly cocky, highly triumphant, grin as he turns it over, "Ha! Knew it, just needed a mo-" _Gurlggurlggurlg! "AAHH~!"_ Stubby limbs bunch and spring. Leaping free with lightning speed to collide with Hawke's face, latching with alien-face-hugger type force and it's game on.

" _WAAH!_ HAWKE, HAWKE! IT CAME BACK WRONG!" Snatching the nearest object to help bat it off.

"OLW!! URPH ITTING MUR!"

Which might have been a steel gauntlet.

Flailing limbs, muffled curses, ineffectual swatting; basic anarchy until a hit seems to get the bear's attention and its neck contorts around in a complete one-eighty. Sockets empty and downright soul sucking, an angry furrow creases its brow then it's off with a _gurlggurlggurlg!_ Launching itself from Hawke's face and straight for mine.

Gauntlet still in hand, " _Rah! Fuck no!"_

 _BAP!_ Sending it sailing with a hard bitch-slap.

Sharply burlap slams against a barrel --though probably not as roughly as it could have if made of flesh and bone. Rebounding and landing upon its stomach with a barely discernible _flop_ before its immediately up and off again with a pissed gurgle.

"The fuck, Hawke-?! Why'd it Pet Cemetery??!!" I gasp between breaths, holding my 'weapon' out and at the ready while I swiveled in place, frantically scanning for any sign of the bear from Hell.

Panting and gulping great lungfuls of air, "I don't know what that even is!" He barks back between pants. "And it was my first attempt okay?! It's a bloody children's toy, it shouldn't require effort to move!"

Wheezed exhales swiftly calming and room utterly still, we catch startled shouts from outside. Both swearing, "Shit." as one at the bellows, we race forward without a second thought. Exiting to a glaring midday sun and wide-eyed, disheveled men in the process of picking themselves up from the ground, we spare no time for niceties.

"Where'd it-?"

"Which way d-?"

Speaking together in rapid succession but the demand must have been clear since twin shakes of dazed ignorance answered.

"Bullocks!" Hawke hisses with an irate scrub of his face. He grabs my bicep and propels us further into the sunlight then, away from earshot of the guards before speaking quickly but quietly. "We need to find that seed of evil before it causes problems --like eat someone."

"Won't it run out of steam, run its course?" I ask, taking a cue from him and keeping my voice low.

"Maybe, maybe not?" Looking hopeful and uncertain then frustrated until he shrugs with a groan. "I'm not sure. _Tche!_ Damn!"

I reach up, vigorously squeezing and jostling his arm in support as I follow his lead and survey the empty catwalks branching ahead of us. "Eh, it'll be fine. Worse case someone gets an awkward story to tell about being gagged by a bear." Mouth skewing as I bring _that_ mental picture to the forefront. " _Eee..._ actually that's pretty embarrassing. It has those stumpy little ar-"

"Yes! Exact--wait--no, that's not the point!" He huffs. "Blood magic and a joke that has people soiling themselves from surprise is entirely different than blood magic and a joke that has people screaming in panic from what they are going to assume is demonic possession. We have to nab that creepy wanker before anyone else gets a chance to see it."

Giving a last hearty pat and nonchalant hike of my shoulder at his worry, " _Dude_ , it would've freaked everyone out either way. It's a doll moving with blood magic."

" _Pfft,_ of course. But I'm thinking more of the reception --of exactly _who_ is going to come marching to investigate." He counters with a tilt of his chin and a rise in his brows significantly.

Not quite understanding, "Oh." Then, " _o_ _hh..._ oh, shit." when comprehension dawns.

"Mm-hmm. Oh, shit is right. Don't want to be on the receiving end now do we?"

Balls no, no we do not. "Capture the creepy wanker."

A nod. "Capture the creepy wanker." Hawke affirms.

Fists briefly touch, our minds in perfect harmony, and wordlessly we separate to branch our search. Each beginning the hunt down opposing catwalks and setting off at a brisk pace though the desire to sprint was strong. Still having enough composure and sensibility to avoid drawing even more attention by tearing across wide-open ramparts in a frantic frenzy.

Terrible thing was, the buzzing drone of activity and life was a constant thrum carrying from below and farther within the fortress, distracting and drowning out other sounds that may have otherwise been perceived as suspicious. At this moment I really envied the superhuman hearing the races of Thedas possessed, they would have come in handy  --or any of their capabilities actually. I only had my puny humanness to rely on and I was starting to feel like I kept bringing a plastic bag to a gun fight.

More so now that I was on the brink of an all out run as I scooted my way across the catwalk and was nearing the end and had yet to encounter a single peep. Nothing, deserted. There was no sight of trotting nightmare fuel. Either Huggles jumped ship or was still up here somewhere; however considering the lack of screams from below, I had to assume I was on the right track or Hawke was having better luck.

There were two choices ahead of me then, remain on the parapets and maybe complete a giant circle with the possibility of joining Hawke, or, take a right that was fast approaching.

I tip my head in return to the guard who stood at the corner of this catwalk's stretch, past the covered alcove that led to a landing and stairwell to the lower level, before he faces forward once again. Bored, sweaty, but calm.

Whelp that obliviously decided that. Down it was.

Twenty feet from and my eyes snag on a bucket resting against the barrier. _Well now..._ a grin forming as inspiration strikes. Pausing to snatch it up and stealing a peek inside, I jokingly gag then upend its murky contents over the side.

" _EYIEE~!"_

 _Oops._ Wincing as I beat a hasty retreat.

" _UGH!_ F~ -THE BLOODY ARSE IS THIS??!!"

 _Shitshit._ Picking up the pace while incensed bellows continued to dog my escape. _I swear it's for a good cause!_

Ignoring that expression of _what the fuck_ cast in my direction, I slip into the alcove and down the stairs to the secondary walkways below. Left from the landing and I would tread a breezeway before reaching another, being forced to descend towards the inner keep, or I could take a right and stay hunting on the walls. No one was crying 'gah, abomination!' at full blast so smarter to keep to the walls. I pivot to do just that when--

Hold on, had that been movement?

Foot hovering, I turn my head to study the breezeway, sure I had glimpsed motion in my periphery. All was relatively quiet and I was about to disregard it and go on my way, but then....there! Yes! A thready noise that I was able to very faintly detect under the din, and even then I wondered if I had simply imagined it.

_Hup, balls to the wall I always say._

Twirling the bucket between my palms to suspend upside down, I inch along, careful to keep the sound of my boots muted.

... _gurlggurlggurlg...._

Soft, hushed; a barely there rumbling grumble.

 _Hehe, gotcha, you little bastard._ Smirking wickedly as I creep onto the landing and quickly take stock. A few crates, a couple racks; nothing particularly special. He had to be here, I had heard...

_...gurlggurlggurlg...._

AHA! Spotted! Target located.

The smirk grew as I slunk closer, moving so slowly it felt like ages before I was nearly towering over the tiny form hunched with its back turned. Perhaps sensing something, burlap begins to twist...

_gurlggur-_

" _hee~_ gotcha!" Dropping down full speed and trapping Huggles beneath the bucket before it even knew what hit it.

 _Gurlggurlggurlg!_ There was a second of vicious force slamming against the sides, rattling the bucket so hard and very nearly overturning it that I thought I was screwed.

Intuition? Luck? Fuck if I knew, but by some miracle of God I happened to slide with the bucket, away from the crates Huggles had squatted between and far enough into the open that I could promptly belly-flop over the top. Strong little bastard actually managed to drag --drag!-- the both of us several centimeters. The scrape and grind of wood sounded as harsh as the pissed gurgling carrying on beneath me.

Not proud of how heavily I was currently breathing, I wiggle to lay more of my weight over his impromptu cage. The proof of my horrendous stamina is sporadically interrupted by an especially angry thump knocking against wood; setting the whole of it, and me, to bounce. Huggles and his mutant strength was no joke, what did Hawke add to him, tyrannosaurus blood?!

It was a cycle that persisted for a good five minutes; _shove!_ , quietly wait for the weak human to let their guard down... _bam!_ , before he finally seemed to give up. I puffed a grateful sigh when a small _gurlggurlggurlg...._ rumbled under me and I realized the war had been won.

Target acquired.

" _Hehe..._ "

"Inquisitor, what _are_ you doing?"

_Nutsack!_

"Heh, hi, Cassandra, how's it hangin'?" I innocently inquire with a tiny wave from the floor. Her expression plainly one of knowing things were fishy but reluctant to determine if she truly wished to know why. _Such bad luck! The_ one _person I didn't want to meet right now! Pfff...it's okay, just act cool. Cool..._

"I believe that is a question better reserved for _you,_ is it not, Inquisitor?"

 _Ah, come on! That was_ not _a challenge!_

"My, so formal...Hello to you too, snuggle pooh." Giving a wave and plastered smile to the man who climbed to stand beside Cassandra on the landing. Solas merely hummed and tucked his staff in the crook of his elbow as he leaned on a hip. The absolute embodiment of patience as arms fold and penetrating greys lock on me, letting me know without a single word that he was well aware of the bullshit I was about to weave.

Oh how he underestimates my dedication to bullshit.

"From current perspective the Inquisition could probably do with a measure of formality." Cassandra remarks with an eye of my bucket. "The bucket...I feel...no, I do not wish to know." Lifting her palm in a halt gesture and shaking of her head with a sigh, obviously thinking better of it. "Cullen has spoken with the regiment commanders, they're nervous placing so much trust in the hands of mages-"

"Yet they're all for their leader being one." I snort.

"The irony is not lost on us." Cassandra agrees drolly. "We knew the seeds of fear wouldn't so easily be forgotten and there might be some hesitation, but th-" _...gurlggurlggurlg...._

......

Dead. Silence.

"...what was..."

Curling over and resting more weight, " _ughh...ohh..._ nothing, it's nothing." I pitifully groan, meeting her frown directly. "You were saying...?"

A brow arches, "You sound ill, _vhenan_ , are you ill?"

_Traitor! I hear that feigned concern! You're supposed to help me!_

"Just a little upset stomach, sugar dumpling." I say sweetly. "It'll pass."

"If you're sick the apoth-" she ventures.

"No!" I quickly blurt before I catch myself. "No. It's not serious, Cassandra." By everything Holy, drop it woman!

"Regardless. As the head of the Inquisition one shouldn't take risks, despite how.... _innocuous..._ they may seem." Solas insists pragmatically.

Ooh if looks could kill...

 _Gonna kick you!_ So close to glaring daggers at that sexy smug jerk. "Diarrhea. Terrible, uncontrollable fiery diarrhea --might as well be glass. This is my shit bucket, it's a shit bucket. I'm a big girl, I found a poop bucket. Cassandra? Commanders whining?" Raising both brows, daring anyone to contest _that_.

"I...yes..." She hedges.

Yup no further explanation required, regretting disgust apparent, bout won. While Solas' eyebrow dryly quirks from the safety of Cassandra's blind-spot, the 'really? that's where your mind went?' a clear message written on his face.

Hey, I challenge him to come up with something better. It's flawless.

"We...need their complete confidence, my friend, it's too important to leave to chance." Cassandra continues after a moment, all business once again. "Cullen suggested a sit down between mages who've more than proved their loyalty and the commanders, and I agree. I thought Hawke might be with you, I had hoped having the Champion who saved Kirkwall in attendance would ease concerns, but I see....ah, there he is."

I crane my neck to follow her gaze behind me, refusing to shift my weight lest I accidentally release the spawn of Satan, and spot a frazzled Hawke skid to a halt at the bottom of the stairs I had recently descended. His manner almost hectic as he glances one way then the other before landing on us. Even from here I identified the exact second I was noticed right before my audience and the _ho fuck!_ expression that was immediate.

Blessed boy, he was swift to pull himself together and smooth his face to come join us, but the damage was probably already done as he ambles to take a casual stance near my legs.

"Lovely Seeker, Sleeky Seal," Hawke hails breezily, though it would have been more believable without the winded pants. "How goes the packing? Must be tough, what with all the preparing and people to wrangle. You know, if you have to get going, not to worry, we'll understand. We're just getting some fresh air before we're back at it anyway. Keep up morale, make sure troops are happy --that sort of thing. Every tiny bit helps, right?"

"It does." Solas affirms before Cassandra has a chance to respond. "Interesting that their spirit was sorely in need of a bucket. Would that more conflict could be solved so simply." He offhandedly comments with a look at Hawke, daring him to attempt a convincing lie.

_gurlgg-_

" _UUUuughhhoohh~...._ my stomach..." _F~! Stupid Huggles!_ Wilting pitifully and going full damsel production, giving Hawke the best hint I could under the circumstance. Why Pet Cemetery chose now to emit a disgruntled gurgle I could only assume was Thedas getting it's kicks, but damn if I wouldn't roll with it and spin it for something good.

"Ha! Been spending too much time in dream land, haven't we, Sir Woodsmen?" Hawke mocks sociably. "It's obviously a handy-dandy dump pail --happy you managed to find one first by the way, was getting a tad hairy there." He rambles with a bend and kindly pat of my back.

_Yes! Idiots really do think alike!_

_Wait..._

"Anyway, it's covered as you can tell, a little clearing out of the body is great for health --makes you all light and frisky, am I right? Eh, eh?" Tossing a wink and a nudge at Solas.

"Doubtful." He dryly counters, far from impressed.

"We've got-"

Never sparing a glance down, "shush. You're too leaky to talk.-"

" _Ugh._ "

" _Hahaha,_ aww."

"......."

A gradual nod as his mouth tweaks, "Okay, I heard it." Hawke concedes. He was gearing up to say more, however it seems Huggles was getting restless. A much livelier _gurlggurlggurlg_ rumbled. "YOU KNOW, I UNDERSTAND IT'S PROBABLY BEEN A LONG DAY FOR EVERYONE," kneeling to place both palms on my shoulders and making a show of talking overly loud while I tried to play dysentery Mary, " _UUUGGHHhhhh..._ "

"MAYBE I- _ahem_ , maybe I should stay with the Inquisitor for now and let you both finish your errands. It's no trouble really, witnessed the worst of it I'm sure. Hardened man right here, just take care of what you need to."

"Why? Need us gone, Champion?"

Taking Solas' bait and narrowing her gaze on us both, "Yes...it does seem odd doesn't it?" Cassandra mutters. "Is there a reason you want us on our way? It wouldn't have anything to do with something bene-"

" _Tsk!_ Well my oh so beautiful Seeker, if you wanted to stay in the presence of my dashing charms so desperately, you should have just said so! I merely thought to lessen your stress but if you desire me so ardently, who am I to naysay? I'll remain at your side day and night! Never shall I waiver, never shall I falter, nev-"

"That isn't necessary, Champion, certainly I will find a way to do without your 'charms'."

"But they're so _big_."

I think her noise of disgust may have been more committed than usual as Cassandra rolled her eyes and nearly glowered in answer. "As I was informing the Inquisitor, some of the regiment commanders are nervous. We should settle any tension now, preferably before we are knee deep in demons and enslaved Wardens."

"Ah, a show of solidarity is it?"

"Correct. If we can..."

_BAM!_

_GURLGGURLGGURLG!_

Without warning I'm roughly jostled, pitching the bucket to teeter alongside my shifted weight. Experiencing in craptacular slow motion my keel over onto Hawke and a suddenly very free, very miffed, bear.

Uh...surprise?

"Maker-!" Limbs stumpy and coarse coil, catapulting with unerring speed for the flabbergasted woman.

_Whap!_

Okay, perhaps not so flabbergasted. Cassandra's gloved fist punches out, colliding with Huggle's squash body and lays him out flat. Being a doll and possibly incapable of feeling pain, he was already bunching to spring again before he had even finished bouncing when he's expertly pinned to the stone in a flash.

Short appendages wildly flail and thrash amidst furious grumbles as Solas calmly studies the toy beneath his staff. A sandy brow arching once more at its appearance before inscrutable greys rise to level on us. "Do I want to know what this is for?"

"It does not matter what it is for, Solas." Cassandra retorts, recovered from her initial surprise and now moving into angry disbelief as she looked from Huggles to us as we scurry to our feet. "It is enchanted with blood magic. I know you are responsible, Hawke, what possessed you to do this? What are the both of you thinking, within the Keep no less?"

"Ha, possessed..." Clearing my throat at the answering ire flaring at the wisecrack. "It's just a prank, Cassandra --might've went a little wrong, but it's nothing serious..."

"Harmless sport really." Hawke helpfully tacks on beside me. "Thought it would be great idea to alleviate tension, heighten spirits. It does men good to have something to laugh about before a fight. Shocked you don't agree, my rigid succubus."

She scoffs incredulously. "You must be joking."

We were being regarded as though we had taken leave of our senses, believing a creepy teddy bear would be found humorous. I noticed then Solas' quiet attention to Cassandra's reception of the situation, a soft sigh and acceptance flits across in his expression as the ghastly power stone of his staff flickers to life. "I understand your concern, Cassandra, but consider honestly if more dared to demonstrate its other purposes, perhaps it would not be so unduly vilified. There is more to blood magic than madness and death." He evenly offers. A haze, crimson and ethereal arises while the gentle glow of his staff brightens before our eyes. Gradually leeching from Huggles to delicately evaporate and return to the ether.

"I am aware, Solas --rare as it is, but here is not where we should test boundaries." Exhaling a steadying breath as magic dissipated and struggles began to cease, a hand lifting to rub her temple. "Don't think this is the end of it for you both, we'll discuss this later. For now we have ruffled nerves and egos to smooth. Just...by the most Holy try to behave until then."

Actually the Inquisition seemed to be _the_ opportune place to test boundaries and positions, what with its diversity and social standing. And I would have argued that point vehemently, but looking at the worry and fatigue bracketing the corner of her eyes, I reluctantly kept my mouth shut. Instead I scooped up a now ordinary children's toy --I was going to use him later dagnabbit!-- and hugged it in the cradle of my arms. "Fine we'll try it your way but just so you know, we had the perfect nerve smoother."

~

They were skittish.

It was understandable I suppose, most merely had the few months of our recent truce with the mages and vague stories of our current progress passed letter to letter --if not mouth to mouth-- to build a modicum of empathy or rapport to come anywhere close to camaraderie. Trust, especially that level of trust, only came with proven time or witnessing firsthand acts of fidelity.

Unfortunately there had been no time, no chances for enough situations to emerge where hesitating to offer your back to the man beside you meant life or death. Those bonds were forged in blood, and sadly Adamant's capture would have to be the grisly catalyst. This battle would mold and shape many a perspective.

Preconceptions, age-old prejudices, fear, hatred; it would all either die upon the sand or be reignited and reinforced. There would be no middle ground, no toeing the line, and there was nothing I or the men and women in this room could do to prevent that reality. We each recognized that simple truth yet here we stood pretending that a few words, a few promises, would be sufficient to pave the way to the road we wished. It would set the tone, true, however it would accomplish no more than that.

I listened, observing the subtle shifts of pitch and body language, participating where and when I was expected. Endeavoring to play my part and lessen any conflictions. Proud and amused by the men and women who had been my constant company through the harshest moments of my life. Silently applauding their conviction and strength as I watched their handling of individuals who were more skeptics than cowards.

As I propped a shoulder against a pillar, reclining with Huggles safely nestled in the crook of my elbow and regarded the faces of soldiers who would be responsible for the success or failure of my plans, I had to commend Cullen's wise choices. They were questioning yes, but rightly so when one took the time to see it from their view. Liable they have never witnessed nor read the like before and here it was being ordered of them --become Thedas' guinea pigs. They were not panicky or frightened as I had been led to believe, they were cautious. And in these circumstances, it was a mark of intelligence.

Something which I greatly appreciated.

"These pairings, is there a specific reason for the groupings?" One willowy man pipes up.

No, no there wasn't --is what the others would tell him; only I knew the real reason the special teams were divided in such a way and so it would remain. It was a given the savvier members of the inner circle would catch on but they had no way of conceiving the full depth of it, expect maybe Cole.

I absently massage the spot above my heart at the thought, experiencing a constricting tightness at the reminder of Spirits. All this expanding and reiteration was drudging up the anxieties and terrifying 'what ifs' that I desperately tried to lock away in a tiny emotional time-out box. There was still too many variables, too many potential pitfalls once Adamant's walls were breached...

"....when men reach the Southeast ramparts..."

Hard I press, feeling the uncomfortable pressure build. Ignoring voices and talk of strategy carrying on without a care. Trudging and becoming lost down mental paths I hadn't desired to travel.

_Erimond... Clarel... Nightmare..._

They were perilously linked, each a precarious domino primed to fall and set in motion devastating events. A string of preordained successions that ended with nothing save tragedy and heartbreak. The chain needed to be broken, a domino swept from the board. But how? Which one?

Eyes morosely focus; following the dance of candlelight over mischievous features alit with teasing warmth. Over another steeped in altruistic vitality, shining with stouthearted purpose. Seeing tragedy. Sliding further to trace angular lines bathed in grace and dignity, gliding across planes invested with composure; glimpsing heartbreak. Two futures fated should the cycle remain unaltered and intact.

Roads, choices...tomorrows...

They were mine. Mine to shape and decide. I but needed to be brave enough to reach out and leap.

Fingers halt, no longer fidgeting as a fire began to stir. Gaze torn between three men, it kindled and burned, my clarity --my undeniable resolve.

How blinded I had become by the salient being hurled in my face that I nearly missed the inconspicuous being lain at my feet all along.

"...it's damn near insane, but its genius."

"We'll get it done."

"Then if there is nothing else...?" Cullen concludes with a glance to those present.

_Accept the things that cannot be changed, war for those that could._

"There's one." I declare, drawing the attention of every commander and comrade. A grin forming as I stand straight and seat Huggles atop the pillar's fringe -to their dismay- before neatly clasping my hands behind me and sauntering to join everyone in the center of the room. The sense of utter _rightness_ flowering in my breast such a freeing lightness that I wondered if perhaps I had forgotten what it was to simply be _me_.

"Not that it should matter, but I'm putting it on notice that I have someone." The smile building as confused looks exchange and knowing smirks bloom on others. "Bagged myself an elf-" tossing my chin to a wide eyed Solas. "and I am now sleeping with said elf -fucking, I'm fucking the apostate for anyone seeming unclear on that one. Now, if there are any concerns or anyone would like to say something, please feel free to come to me and do so. I will wholeheartedly listen and store it away in my 'I don't give a flying shit' drawer. Thank you, that is all, carry on!"

Gods did I feel liberated. Such a small thing yet it was as if I had conquered a world. The Inquisitor, Lavellan, she may have lived her life for her people and a country, but I would do it for a single few. She had perhaps hidden herself and her loves but I would not do the same. I _would_ change this life into something better. Change, however trivial, always had the power to transform into something greater.

Chuckles -both incredulous and embarrassed, head shakes; blushes on some, greeted that from those closest to me while unfamiliar faces appeared bewildered on how to respond. Hawke's ditsy quip of, "Well! _That_ answers a lot!" chiming over the amusement until one timbre made itself heard.

"Inquisitor. A moment?" Cupping my elbow with a gentle touch.

I tilt my head to the man who had drawn near, casting my gaze over the countenance I could now openly admire. Obediently trailing in his wake as he shifts to guide us from the assembly hall.

"Solas, you don't have to call me Inquisitor. Cat's out of the bag, you can call me by name. Or _vhenan_... you'll never hear me complain about that one." I say with a dreamy grin.

The declaration is met with silence as he continues to lead us from the hall and down a quiet corridor. Unable to see anything but the rigid set of his shoulders as he walked I venture, "Solas, I'm sorry if it embarrassed you. I didn't mean it that way. I'm proud to be your lover, I just wanted to make my stance clear and not have you worry about it anymore."

Replaying my grandiose speech, I had to admit it might have been over the top considering _whom_ it pertained to. I really was regretful about that, it had never been the intent. I never wanted to humiliate him. I had only meant to show how much of a nonissue it was and get him to see how unimportant appearances are. Titles, reputation, power-- these things didn't mean anything to me. I wanted to make him see that as well. Though, I confess, I probably could have worded it with class and it still would have gotten the intended point across.

Mutely he strides for a storeroom door and steps inside, only waiting long enough for me to softly close it behind us before sighing and rounding on me in exasperated frustration.

"Why do you insist on acting as you please? Are you really that unaware of the world around you, or do you simply care for nothing beyond your own selfish desires? I assumed you to be boorish and crass, but I believed you to have shown me more, that I was wrong. Yet..." The deep furrow of ire begins to smooth as he looks at me, a sad solemnity replacing the anger. "I told you why it was a mistake. Why could you not listen? Do my thoughts on the matter mean nothing?"

I blink in numb disbelief; the show of temper unexpected and something I had never anticipated being directed at me before hands ball into fists at my side. _His feelings...? **His** feelings?! He dared throw that at me? That I cared nothing for his thoughts or wants? _

"You giant ass!" I yell with a hiss, incapable of suppressing the livid fury I was experiencing.

I knew he had valid reasons to be angry, I _knew_ this, but somehow I was still so incredibly furious at him for saying that. As much as I recognized the announcement was poorly worded --that it deserved his ire, my heart and emotions had taken it differently.

This was yet another tick to demonstrate just how much I was lacking, how much I didn't belong. Serving to illustrate that I wasn't anything other than the pale substitute for the Inquisitor...for Lavellan. A faceless woman who had captured his respect and his heart by being poised, heroic, caring --all the things I could never hope to be, and had no desire to ever become.

I wanted to be free. Wanted to travel the world. Explore everything there was to see, experience what Thedas and the Fade had to offer. I wanted to do all these things and so much more. And I wanted to do them with Solas. Not have these shackles of a title and destiny I never aspired for or even wanted shadow my every action.

Instead of living as I yearned to do -as my soul demanded I do, I was here. I was helping souls that didn't deserve the sacrifice. I went out of my way to save those who asked for justice even though it wasn't my wish. I aided the downtrodden and the desperate because I cared for the teammates around me; not to be an almighty savior. I listened to the woes and sorrows of individuals who could easily fight for themselves, but were too cowardly to take up arms. I broke myself, crushed myself --destroyed myself...all for a cause that was never my own. I did this -I _did_ this without uttering a word of complaint or denying my team anything that was believed in. The only thing I selfishly wanted --the only thing I selfishly asked for in return; was the freedom to be with Solas. To be able to freely seek his company, to talk with him. To touch him. To not have to hide my affection as if it were something in which to be ashamed, that I was an emotionless doll without desires or dreams. To not have to pretend I was some great champion of righteousness that only believed in duty and the good of all. That I would sacrifice my feelings and my happiness so that everyone else could retain theirs while mine were thoughtlessly stripped away.

An angry sob escapes as I stand there, the tears creating a watery haze in my vision. Unknowing all the bitter thoughts had been voiced aloud until the warmth trailed down my face and Solas moved to touch me with an expression of sorrowful regret.

" _Vhenan...Ir abelas_. I-"

I shove him away, seeing his features fall but too upset to feel guilt over the stunned hurt my rejection causes. "Y-you want your o-obligation driven _vhenan_ , your t-tactful l-lover?! Then fine!" Spinning on my heel to throw open the door. Unable to see through the curtain of tears now freely streaming down my cheeks as I make a hasty retreat into the hallway. Trying to get away as quickly as I could so as not to embarrass myself further.

I knew he would not follow as I blindly sought the solitary refuge of a tower roof. Utterly unsurprised to find the one who came to sit beside me was Cole as he materialized from the shadows. Breaking anew and burying my face in the rough material of his tunic as the fresh realization of how silly my girlish fantasies truly were washed over me.

For Solas would never chase.


	90. Chapter 90

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY!
> 
> Side Notes:  
> Immortals After Dark, Kubera: One Last God, Cards Against Humanity, and Tokyo Mew, Mew references incoming during these Adamant chapters. There are probably a few more, but I can't think of them off the top of my head right now, lol

"Firm, cold, 'there is more'. She didn't believe, but she stopped."

" _hmm?"_ Blinking, pulling myself from the dazed reverie with effort, quietly regarding the spirit turned man who rode beside me in the dark twilight of night.

"She let us go so the risk wouldn't come in. There was sadness after, she remembered her friend."

" _Ahh..._ " Sighing in understanding. "Sometimes even when we know we're being told lies, we accept them. We follow our intuition, hoping that it's the right choice." I confess despondently; regretting none of the decisions that had ultimately brought me here, merely the conditions that had forced them.

_"You can't be serious, Inquisitor." Scoffing softly in abject disbelief, looking back as though I had taken leave of common sense. "If this is your will, then another will go in your stead."_

_"No, it has be me."_

_"That simply won't happen."_

_"You're not going to stop me on this, Leliana, I'm leaving. I'll fight through anyone who gets in my way and good luck trying to hide that from the soldiers and the world." Refusing to surrender or back out now, not when it had all become so painfully clear._

_"I could. But I won't have to." Leliana states coldly. " Contrary to the belief of some, you wouldn't chance harming one of your personal Agents."_

_Fingers clench, my lips curling into the hint of a snarl at her threat. "Perhaps not, but it won't come to that. I'll have shown the Inquisitor rebelling against her own organization before that."_

_Silently her penetrating gaze studies mine; testing, probing. Evaluating my words and my resolve, debating the depths I would push. "It is not so simple, Lavellan." She sighs at last. "You are too valuable to risk, I can't let you go."_

_"And it's too risky to send someone else." I gravely counter. "It will mean next to nothing without the weight of Andraste's Herald, you know this as well as I. I'm sorry, Leliana." Turning away, daring her to block my path._

_"I could take you now, arrest you, lock you within this room." Comes the dispassionate declaration at my back._

_Fingers pause, hovering over the hard metal of the door's latch, "probably." before calmly twisting and I step from the chamber without a backwards glance._

"It's better she wasn't the one to come. The Left won't bleed away." Cole pensively intones.

I draw away from the memory, focusing once more on the present and seemingly endless dunes afore us. Mutely agreeing with his assessment, though not for the same reasons as one born of compassion. When the solution had finally dawned standing in that war counsel, it _was_ Leliana who I envisioned. The Master Spy or the Master Assassin, I hadn't cared which she would have to become. But then sharp words as keen as any sword had cut deep and everything had changed.

"Wings; light, airy, free...then they ripped. Why?" Cole gently asks.

I blink, tilting my head to look across into honest eyes, unable to deny them anything when pitted against their clarity and purity. "What wings, honey?"

"They fluttered and soared, _I can bring change, make this real._ But he worried and it fell away."

"...oh..."

_Solas...._

Faintly leather creaks as hands unconsciously squeeze, my gaze slipping to the horn of my saddle as an ache knots around my heart. Replaying again the last moments of an encounter within a lonely storeroom and the arms that had reached out in apology. Feeling the sting of hurt and shame, wishing I could hold the angry tears at bay and things had been different.

_Hope a backlog of semen poisons and wastes him!_

"He watched the girl dragged, bloody, beaten, from the village. They liked her but that didn't matter. Her shell was wrong though it wasn't."

Again that cruel pressure wrings and I couldn't bring myself to meet the boy who saw through everything. " 'He', Solas?"

"Yes."

Like a cancer that low, single revelation hung between us in the hush of night. Unfairly stealing the heat and edge of temper I had scarcely managed to cling to. Understanding and wishing I did not. It was far easier to hold onto stubborn desires than admit the fear was justified, however I suppose it was too late to seek forgiveness now. Likely I would be captured and sacrificed if not outright slain soon, but that did not matter, I needed to try regardless of the danger. At least I could take solace that despite what may come, Cole would manage to escape and live.

"I could stay."

Eyes lift to unwavering blues staring back, comforted and grateful for their strength. "I know, thank you, Cole. But I'm not going to ask you that, and you must reunite with the others when the walls are breached. And I am not getting taken down here, I won't let Adamant be my end." I staunchly vow.

As if I would allow such a cesspool of idiocy to be where I met my maker, I haven't struggled through so much or driven so hard for it all to amount to this. No, I was realistic in recognizing the peril and enormous potential for failure in my plan, but I also wasn't going to sit idly by and simply accept my defeat if the worst should come to pass. I would be the most colossal dick and the most mammoth sized pain in the ass to get rid of before I let anyone kill me, _someone_ was fucking coming with. There was still too much to live for and to do for it to ever be any other way.

As I looked at the innocent Spirit made boy, I felt it even more intensely, the need to keep going and not falter. I had yet to save anyone; worse, the least complicated friend I even had, and I still haven't given him a future. I had become so consumed with the affairs of the heart and exploiting shady machinations that I had forgotten others who deserved my help.

"Cole..."

"I-I don't know. Shades, shadows, stills that aren't stagnant. I am me, and so is he, but it's all tangled inside. Am I here, or has the part split? Which am I?"

"I...sorry, Cole. I'm sorry." I finish softly, unsure of what to say. Furious at myself for stupidly bring it up in such a half-baked way and without a solution to boot. Of course Cole was confused as shit. "You're you, Cole, never doubt that. It's just glimpses of possible futures, there's no reason you have to decide now or even choose one of them. Your life and your happiness is yours, no one else's. And I'll be here to support whatever direction that takes, I promise."

Small and fragile a smile emerges as hands that had wrung with unease calm and guileless eyes that had peered in distress disappear beneath the rim of a wide-brimmed hat. "Thank you."

Two simple words, yet a wealth of relief burdened them. Humbling and chastising in one swift strike with their untainted sincerity. I return the smile, unequipped to offer anything better. 'You're welcome', 'Don't mention it'; any response was inadequate. Each terribly lacking and laughably self-serving when matched against the truth.

Restored to the Spirit he once was, encouraged towards mortality and humanity; neither correct nor wrong. Only subjective.

I had neither the right or the cause to decide such a choice. Cole, Compassion; though different, he would initially find happiness in both futures. But for how long would it last, which granted longevity to his contentment? And yet, that was caveat wasn't it? The future was an endless expanse of possibilities and choices, shrouded in uncertainty and mystery, with solely hope and a prayer to guide one's actions. All for the chance to attain that special thing that had compelled them all their life.

A Spirit reaching out in compassion to a boy who had been offered none, or a Spirit who had learned what it is to be human and perhaps desired to be more; which did he truly wish?

"I don't know."

Muted, subdued; the answer I was given and one I would therefore not push until the day arrived that he was ready. Instead I stared ahead, prepared and anxious to meet the scouts who were about to have the fate of a war saddled upon their unwitting shoulders.

~

"Make it believable, oh, and don't mind him." I say with a hook of my thumb.

Brows furrowing, "him...?"

"Hello." Cole waves shyly.

Mouths gape as four pairs of eyes latch on the man who had been standing in their midst since the very beginning.

"Don't worry about it, happens to everyone." I grin. Dumbfounded, gawking affirmatives echo back and I can't help but chuckle. People's reactions to finally noticing Cole would never get old.

In amused silence I wedge a rag in my mouth before presenting my wrists complaisantly. Waiting with lax patience as wrists are securely bound and vision is promptly blanketed as a sack is produced. Glad to find I wasn't left in total darkness as the mesh of burlap afforded limited sight; obscured but not completely blind, perfect.

Tugging firmly to test the rope's tension, and grunting to signal my approval when they held steadfast, I thumbs up and it was game on.

Bound, gagged, head covered; events progressed quickly from there. My entourage moving efficiently to bundle me over a horse like some sad bag of potatoes and mount up to ride us to our clandestine destination. I would admit, I have never tightened my core so fiercely in my life as I did for that short ride. The compression, the uncomfortable dig of buckle and leather, the inescapable jarring bob and jostling of teeth and neck alike; this hellish time would probably be burned to memory for eternity.

_This better fucking work._

And it was an entirely rational concern under the circumstance, this was an utterly unreliable gamble possibly bordering on horrendously moronic. There was no guarantee everyone would come to play and unsuspecting pawns would act accordingly. I had a prayer and insight to bank everything on, precariously depending on the ties unknown Wardens _might_ have for their fellow compatriots. I could just as easily get the heinous murderers and brigands, wouldn't that be just my luck.

Reins pull and the knees sandwiching me squeeze without warning, eliciting a grunted _urmph_ at the abrupt jolting halt. Low nickers of welcome and the jangle of harnesses reach my ears long before the muffled chatter of voices and hands are suddenly grasping my hips and collar of my 'borrowed' gambeson, roughly hauling me from horseback.

My feet stumble as I'm set upright and the grip changes to clamp down on both biceps, causing slight disorientation from the rapid overturn and upheaval but given no time to adjust as I'm practically towed forward.

Steps wooden and staggering I attempt to make out my surroundings. Discerning only that we had alighted to a modest camp from the smell of a dying fire and meager glow managing to stream through my hood. Hearing the distorted rumble of perhaps my 'captors' as I'm led none too kindly to a spot near the weak glow and unceremoniously shoved down.

" _Urmph!"_ Ungainly landing on bent knees and left elbow, immediately scrambling to righten myself with herculean effort thanks to the added trouble of chainmail and merely accomplishing a split-second of verticality before fistfuls of tunic at my back are clenched and I'm thrust down once more to clumsily sit in the sand. Getting the picture I was expected to take a seat and I would damn well enjoy it, I go slack and slump where I was. Allowing my legs to stretch out in front of me after gingerly extending them, now content to wait to see how my gamble would continue to play out.

"-got this one making off with sensitive reports."

"Spy?"

"Seems that way. Harding thinks she came directly from Clarel to learn what we've got planned."

A sneering scoff sounds somewhere from straight-ahead and to my left, "Well that didn't go very well now did it? Some spy, gettin' caught. But what do they expect --when we got us the Maker's blessing."

Here here's and cheers are fast to chime before the original speaker interrupts. "Aye, well, foe or not, wouldn't want to be one of this lot. She's to be executed with the others, be a part of the Inquisitor's demonstration of what happens to our enemies."

" _Nnrgh..._ hangings. Scary and messy; never could get used to witnessing one."

"Aye."

" _Nmm._ "

Listening to the hums and prattle of agreement, I would have started cackling if it didn't promise to choke me. The scouts were snatching my suggestions and running full throttle with them. In a single move three prisoners had slyly been given an answer to the riddle of why they alone had been carted off the beaten path near Adamant while simultaneously presenting a vital key to their Order's survival.

If dangling the opportunity to be the heroes of Adamant didn't kick them into high gear, maybe self-preservation would.

I sat restlessly now, mentally crossing every finger that they were paying rapt attention and believing the impromptu lies. Needing this to work and them to gullibly eat the fibs otherwise this endeavor was about to become one of probable suicide for not only me, but the Spirit who certainly hunched unnoticed nearby. Which path it would be and Fate deemed to set us upon, I would know soon enough I suppose.

Left powerless and at the mercy of a trio of strangers' consciences, I ignore the continued gossip and inhale deeply. Releasing in a slow, measured breath as I struggle for peace, letting the chips fall where they may and ready to receive any outcome the Fates, or Thedas, deigned to settle on. Permitting the inevitability and concrete conclusion of this evening to allay the wayward apprehensions and unrest that churned like a living thing. Experiencing an encroaching tranquility by their confining roads and the clarity of purpose they wielded, taking reassurance from the simplicity of having control withheld.

There was something to be said about the freedom that comes with having power wrenched from you and the surety of finite choice. I felt it now, slouched in the sand; the serenity that came with acceptance. Come what may, I had a course before me and only failure or success waited at its end.

Eyes close, concentrating on the lulling, soft clamor of a small camp. The jangle and stomp of mounts, the lighthearted lilt of hushed banter, the subtle shift of sand underfoot from walking or rummaging within gear. It was soothing, the normalcy; nudging my mind and thoughts to drift as the night wore on.

How would the others take the news of our sudden disappearance I wonder, of secretively whisking ourselves away within the dead of night without a word to anyone as though common thieves. Would Solas believe I ran because of him, that his words had driven this? That I took such risks only now because of a misguided attempt to avoid him and prove myself?

With the passage of time and in the harsh light of day, I could not deny it was partly, largely, true.

Hurt, angry; I hadn't been ready to face him, possibly still wasn't. I had avoided informing anyone of my intent and gone directly to Leliana once there had been no more tears to shed. Not merely to flee my own cowardice, but because I realized this was something only I could do. Desired or not, it had become my responsibility and I would not foster it upon another. I may wish facts were different, but I was no one's pale substitute. I was me and _would_ do better. I would become no one's shadow.

And here, _here_ was where I would prove it.

~

" _psst. psst..."_

I blink awake with a start; slightly surprised I had dozed off at such a critical time and while sitting too, at the same moment another whisper sounds and something gently pokes my boot.

"nrphmm...?" Maintaining a similarly low undertone as my unknown pest.

Likely seeing that I was responsive, the sensation of a body crowding nearer and the creak of leather then precedes a breathy murmur. " _shh..._ I'm a friend, a Warden like you. They're going to execute us, we have to make a run for it. Scratch if you understand." Hands slowly spread before fingers curl and scrape along the pads of the others deliberately. "Good. When the next shift changes we'll have two minutes to get free and get to the horses. Are you able to move unhindered?" Again a pause in that Orlesian -no, maybe Nevarran?-  lilt and again a measured graze in answer. "Sit tight and be ready, we won't get another chance at this." I strained to listen and pay attention, yet there was nothing but silence and the faint creak of hide beside me after that soft command. We were done with our discussion apparently and no more details would be forthcoming.

 _Fine, whatever, but you had better not fuck up._ There was only so much leeway and negligence the scouts could give before it became blatantly obvious it was staged. At least it seemed like the flimsy cover-story and borrowed Warden gambeson and surcoat had passed muster --well, for now. We would see how long that lasted once threat of hanging and recapture was off the table.

It was quiet except for the normal buzz of activity one would usually hear in the early hours of morning, however there was an underlying taste of edginess in the air. I tried to pinpoint the horses standing in wait --still saddled as I ordered hopefully, and the relative position of both scouts and prisoners. Psyching myself up for the speedy release and mad dash to 'freedom' as I sat in taut readiness and waited for the destined cue.

_Holy crackers...I certainly hope the plan isn't 'get up and make a break for it'. What kind of idiot would believ-_

"Now!"

The hood is snatched from my head in a flash and there is only a split-millisecond of stunned confusion as a brawny brunette physically hauls me to my feet.

_the fu...no way..._

"Come on." Propelling me after two others who were already on the move and towards mounts.

_Why do I even bother anymore?_

Coming out of it and yanking the cloth from my mouth, "my hands..." Starting to sprint on my own steam.

"No time. Go, go!" He orders and grips my bicep harder as shouts and calls of alarm rouse the remainder of the camp.

_Of course we're spotted almost instantly...jesus..._

Bound and under no illusions I was an expert --or even somewhat skillfully proficient rider, I stretch out my arms to perform a frantic leap and haphazardly belly-flop across the saddle. Hectically clenching fistfuls of straps and leather to drag myself over fully and center myself while my Warden 'savior' immediately vaulted up nearly on top of me.

"Hee-yah!" Heels dig in sharply with a tug of the reins and we are off with a lurching jolt. I would have slipped then and been in for a very shitty day if not for the palm that smacked down and mercilessly pinned me in place. I was grateful for it, I really was, I hadn't been gunning to snap my neck when I set out two days ago; however the current position was managing to be crappier on my diaphragm than the one before.

The heart-pounding sounds of dogged pursuit were already dimming as we raced away out into the barely greying morning. I smirked into the buckle firmly pressed against my face, knowing the scouts would make a grand production of giving chase but they would be certain not to gain or pursue for too long. To them, these Wardens had made good their escape and now the tricky part was up to me alone from here on out.

_Ah, yes...time to shit in Corypheus' dinner once again._

~

The horses were pushed well past what was humane and I had to practically scream before I was finally heeded and the Wardens called a halt in our desperate race to safety. Hides slicked with sweat and mouths nearly frothing, they would not have lasted much more and it would have been the cause of fools.

I slid from the wide back even before we fully stopped, burying my fury at the poor treatment beneath the need to stretch and alleviate the vicious soreness infecting my front. Privately assessing my 'comrades' as they most assuredly did me while I rolled and cracked my spine.

Three human males, each athletically built and clearly in their prime wearily dismount. Studying me with tired -but vigilant, curiosity. Suspicious yet not particularly distrustful, this was good.

"How's the hands?" The brunette asks with an extension of his own for mine.

Gladly offering them, "numb."

"Sorry." He says with a chuckle. "I'm Barak, and that's Thomas and Massius. Recently arrived and assigned to Orlais." Tossing his chin to the two men who nodded mutely in turn. "You? Don't see too many Dalish filling the ranks, bet there's an interesting story there."

Coolly arching a brow and never straying from a pair of hazel eyes as Warden Barak deftly worked knots, "as I'm sure you three have. Though now's not really the time now, is it?"

"S'pose not." He admits genially. "But not so pressed as to forgo a name, or should we simply address you as 'Hey you', or 'Tattoo' if you prefer?" Leaning back with a teasing grin and drop of his hands as rope is lobbed aside.

 _Cheeky twit_. "Alaina Panis. And I guess I owe the three of you a debt of gratitude. My utmost thanks for the...masterful rescue." I smile in return.

"Ha!" He humorously snorts. "Yes, well, can't always rely on things to go serendipitously for soldiers like us, not in this line of work anyway. We got lucky they became lax with our ropes, otherwise we might have been used as decorations -still might if we aren't careful."

"Mn." Agreeing right along with the rest though I knew just how false that statement was.

In actuality that had been the diciest piece to pull off. Show negligence too soon, or too much, maybe not enough...an immeasurable number of ways that the tiniest miscalculation could have been disastrous, if not outright fatal for the guards. It truly was blessed fortune or a godsdamn miracle that every piece had fallen just as it needed to; doubly so when I considered the Wardens could have easily abandoned me once they realized at least one of their trio had loosened binds. Truly a goddamn miracle.

"The ones who brought you in..." Barak suddenly ventures, "they said you came from Commander Clarel, mentioned reports. Is that true?" Astute, yet an unmistakable spark of hope flared in that hazel gaze. My single opportunity and my in, the one I had anxiously awaited.

Shoulders shrug and I sigh as I dispiritedly contend, "it doesn't matter now, none of it does. It's probably already too late and the gates were barred behind me. My task was a waste and now I won't even get the honor of dying alongside my brothers and sisters." I bitterly profess, angling away and no longer meeting the eyes of my savior.

"No!" Strong fingers grasp my shoulders, and even through gambeson and chain I felt their strength. Forcing me to turn back and witness the stanch conviction staring down in response. "It's not too late, never too late. Not when there is still breath in our bodies."

"Yes! There is still time." The Warden Massius bravely affirms with a step between us as Thomas gave a resolute nod of solidarity behind him. "I was First Recruit to a man who made it his mission to collect and hoard favors. He plays Diamondback regularly with the guards stationed in the gatehouse, it's a safe bet at least one owes him. We get to Adamant, I can get us inside."

"Better than leaving comrades to fight alone without even trying. What do you say, Warden Panis, willing to take a leap of faith with us?"

Looking back at the three men who courageously stood before me with naught but sincerity in their eyes, I almost experienced a sting of guilt. However the very tangible gain far outweighed the sparing of feelings. Branded as gullible fools or traitors, or no; perhaps they would come to understand that despite what others of their Order may hurl in their blind ignorance, they had ultimately brought about the salvation of their brothers.

"Yes...yes, I think I can do that." I kindly say. Sorry that I would use these honest men as nothing more than tools to be discarded, yet not for the promised future so clearly within sight. That...

That was something I was incapable of ever feeling remorse for.


	91. Siege of Covert Actions~

"Any sign?"                 

"None."                        

She halted beside him with a measured sigh. Staring out as so many others to regard the jagged spires and ramparts towering hauntingly in the distance. A fortress in truth standing in menacing stillness under the moonlit twilight that chilled the blood and brought shivers of foreboding. Cassandra perceived it well in the troops who awaited at their back. The thinly veiled fear, the restless anxiousness, the palpable excitement that choked the desert air. It was the heady taste of battle right before screams and death befouled it.

"Should I give the order?" Attracting her attention with a calm cock of his head, the composed bearing of one at home on the battlefield.

For a moment, she hesitated. Committing the sight and countenance of a man she had come to deeply respect to memory. Understanding that within the chaos of war that the promise of tomorrow was an uncertainty. "No...I have faith they won't let us down. We wait a little longer."

Amiably Cullen bows his head in acknowledgement before staring ahead once more, the hint of a smile crossing his lips as he remarks, "of course. But for the record, I do not doubt them either."

An answering tug pulled at the corner of her own as Cassandra turned away, "after all that we have witnessed, it would be hard to do so. The Maker watch over you, Cullen."

"And you, Lady Cassandra."                                      

At peace, she left him there with the main contingent and marched from the Fighting Lines. With the coming of darkness the time for misgivings and trepidations had passed. Cassandra had offered her prayers to the most Holy for the lives of her comrades along with those of Thedas. Now there was naught but serenity simmering within her breast, where none except purpose could gain a foothold. They would fight and it was in the Almighty's hands whether they would stand in victory by the end of it.

She was ready, she would faithfully accept His judgment --whatever it may be. It was a steadfast trust, one that burned in every fiber of her being. The Maker would not abandon them now, not when He had done so much for them already.

Nary a sound came as booted sole's sank within the sand; not even the heavy clank of steel and shield penetrated the night at her passage as Cassandra crossed the short expanse to the left Wing and its Flank. As if the very air held itself in suspense for a solitary sign.

"We are to wait."

Cool, calculated. An observation without the touch of question as Cassandra drew near. The fingers leisurely resting on her pommel roughly squeeze, a rigidness invading the compressed pinch of her mouth as Cassandra came to rejoin those of her squad. Of those who were companions...of one whom was cherished above all others by her Inquisitor.

_"Cassandra, a moment?"_

_She paused, still somewhat within a tumultuous daze at the change. Turning to return to Leliana as the remainder of the Inquisitor's inner circle departed. There was much to be prepared -to do, and there was even more to consider and make sense of._

_Lavellan had left them, taken Cole without a word to any but Leliana, and now they were merely to accept and forsake the both of them if the worse should happen. More than solely she had been fiercely shaken by the news when it passed Leliana's lips, yet they had been given no recourse. The plans already in action, the deeds in motion and done._

_Though she had asked for her company, Leliana was quiet. She studied her in what almost appeared to be compassion before she finally spoke. "There was something else, I thought it best to leave it for your ears alone. The Inquisitor bade me deliver one more thing...for you. 'I post you thus because you would fight harder than any other. My life is now under your care, keep it safe in my stead, Cassandra. Please.' "_

"It is still early and the winds remain in our favor. We can afford to hold for a bit longer." She responds, and nearly swallows at the knot building in her throat as she stoically peers at those around her. Recognizing the incredible trust that the Inquisitor had lain upon her to see them through.

"As you say, Seeker." He murmurs with a solemn cast to the gatehouse parapets. Clearly hoping as the rest that the gates would widely open or a sheet of surrender would rise to fly high above the battlements. Anything to indicate the Inquisitor and Cole had been successful, that they yet lived.

_Keep it safe in my stead, Cassandra..._

Cassandra averted her gaze, choosing to look to her other charges instead, unable to stifle the pang of pity for the mage. Though he had been quick to compose himself that night, to smooth the veneer to one he often presented; the pain had been plain in his bearing when Leliana's news came. It's vestiges lingering still in the lines that stained his features and the shadows that lurked within his eyes. So yes, she felt pity. Pity and concern; for he would suffer the worst if the two did not return.

"Well I for one am confident in the Inquisitor's resourcefulness. Today is a good day --er, night. I can feel it." Alistair states with a warm strength.

"Ha, not for the Wardens..." Hawke sardonically snorts before hastily clearing his throat at the unamused scowl.

Regard shifted from the fortress by the poor jest, "our dear Champion..." Vivienne drolly starts. "Are you certain you wish to be here? I do hate to deprive some poor village of its idiot."

"Easy, Iron Lady, Kirkwall has more than enough village idiots to spare." Varric graciously supplies.

"Hey!"

"Just an observation, Hawke." Varric chuckles.

Humor plucked at the edges of her mouth, dissipating her momentary unrest when a thunderous roar suddenly rents the night. Dousing the sparks of mirth as eyes instinctively chase the rumbling explosion and fasten on ravaged brick and mortar.

Thick plumes rouse as brilliant embers burned through the haze. The clatter of debris as it continued to tumble a vaguely discernible echo in the night that reached their ears even from this considerable distance as breaths instinctively hitched.

A breach.

They had somehow managed to blow a substantial hole in the outer wall quite near the reinforced gates. Gates who even now remarkably began to gradually creep apart.

"NOW! LOOSE! LOOSE!"

The bellows and shouts of mayhem racing across the sand from within Adamant were promptly snuffed out as the deep twang of bows and heavy groan of siege engines drowns out all else. Piercing and resoundingly deafening as colossal infernos of stone and tar tore through the sky to desolate the ancient fortress beyond. Sharp and balefully reverberating as bolt and arrow loosened to blacken out the stars, raining down within the empty expanse to layer the field with dense billows of smoke that began to curl and rise upon impact. It was then that magic flared from seemingly every direction, sizzling and blooming into existence from countless mages until it was a flavor upon her tongue and a prickling itch over her skin.

As blistering heat licked her cheeks and vapors stung her eyes, Cassandra offered one last prayer.

For the battle for Adamant had dawned in earnest.

~

I unapologetically took advantage of Warden Barak's good nature, disregarding and aggressively stuffing down the weirdness of laying against someone other than Solas in order to feign sleep. Better to pretend frail female slumbering than become peppered with questions that would eventually get too complicated to answer plausibly.

Though overly large and only marginally improved with aid of a belt, the stolen Warden gambeson and surcoat had been enough to pass initial inspection. Apparently ill-fitted hand-me-downs was not so uncommon. However the excellently crafted chainmail beneath them on the other hand had raised more than a few eyebrows.

Well...whoops. My bad on that one.

Leliana had put forth strict stipulations prior to our departure from Griffin Keep, 'suggesting' that I don mail otherwise it would seem particularly odd when soldier's were expected to stay prepared for the Inquisition's looming assault at any given moment. Granted, she had steered me towards the myriad of mails and leathers in our temporary armory, but after hefting and then attempting to dress in them? Fuu~ck no.

Forget they were designed for one size mostly fits all -and typically for the average male- they were heavy as _balls_.

Hell; how was I expected to move, let alone function, when dragging and fumbling over links while loaded down like an overtaxed oxen? Yeah, no, not going to try waddling and crawling after my targets.

Honestly when nabbing Cullen's specially arranged gift, I didn't consider anyone analyzing it so scrupulously. Certainly it was a custom job due to fit and probably - _cough,_ definitely- forged with quality materials. But seriously, armor looked the bloody same to me. Just some were shinier and brighter than others...

The tiny error was okay though, the ultimate counter had been formulated! The one argument that could not be contradicted had been uttered posthaste!

Vagina.

Give the impression that you seduced your way to obtaining nice things and then used those tight 'favors' to ensure certain treasured items remained in your possession, and it swiftly killed pesky nay saying.

Truly, it was beautiful to be a woman sometimes. Implying I dicked my way to fortune just wouldn't have brought the same oomph --entertaining, but not as convincing.

Regardless, lesson learned.

To deflect further suspicion fuel I had made great use of the embarrassed lull in conversation and promptly faked increasing drowsiness then gradually sleep. Hoping I could remain 'napping' and ride the squeamish propriety train all the way to Adamant. So far it was working and the men were content to leave me be as they carried on in hushed voices. For how long it would stay so I did not know but maybe my luck would hold. Barak didn't seem to mind the added weight slouched against him so perhaps it meant puzzling through my origins could wait until we were safely behind Adamant's walls.

Fine by me --heck, stupendous even. So long as no one wanted the removal of my gloves or armor, I was golden.

Doubts and any questions raised at the gates from the guards I could happily deal with. Cole could clean my presence from everyone's mind for that short span until we were inside. And I knew he must be there already, patiently waiting.

Not a whiff of Spirit had been spotted prior to my 'capture' but I wasn't worried. I knew Cole would be where he was needed, he would never abandon me.

At the moment I was more concerned with the possibility of a rift suddenly poofing into existence on top of us, or the anchor randomly deciding it was aggravated and then activating just because.

It was dormant now; had remained thus since Larry's intervention, and Solas had confirmed its latency after appearing to double down with his own psychic mojo, however _I could feel it_. Low and thready, subtly pulsating in a deceptively sedated thrum. Wholly unstable and terrifyingly on the precipice of raging. Close, so petrifyingly close to being driven over the edge by the smallest push it seemed.

More than the mere exposure of having the Anchor seen and my identity as the Inquisitor revealed, it was the prospect of triggering it, of its accidental arousal that I feared. A leak, one tiny slip --however negligible it may be, and I was afraid there would be no calming the tempest this time. Clothes concealed the mark but it would be for naught if the precarious leash on its control snapped.

There was no super-powered God Solas to halt it and take it away, no weakened apostate Solas to hinder it again; no one. If the cage chipped for even a moment it was over. I sensed it as surely as if I attempted a controlled activation. It was a volatile explosive ready to ignite and there was nothing I could do but pray the fuse remained unlit for a little longer.

Yet another reason to reach Clarel before anything could happen.

In the current state it was in, I wasn't sure what would set it off. If logic and facts weren't enough to sway her mind, then the Commander would be ruthlessly swept from the board. Simple as that. And in the odd chance that failed; Erimond.

Though Erimond posed the greater threat and was likely the easier target to locate, in reality _he_ posed the greater danger to _me_. There was no telling what it would require to take him down. And as unpredictable as the Anchor presently was, it was impossible to estimate if the ensuing clash of energies would unintentionally provoke it. I preferred to avoid that risk if I could help it, thus Clarel made for the harder --yet safer, choice.

Relatively.

It was all guesswork and theories really. Everything unscripted and a complete gamble. I only knew that _something_ had to change. That some player or piece needed to be removed in order to disrupt the cycle. Nightmare and the Fade could never be allowed to happen and solely Clarel and Erimond afforded that outcome.

Ergo, I only had to eliminate one and those futures that had been fixed would cease.

Sounded easy enough.

_Yeah..._

I slumped against the charitable Warden Barak even more if that was possible, keeping the stressed sigh inside as I went about washing irrelevant schemes from my thoughts. No longer considering the 'what ifs' of Cole and I's alternate plan. They were inconsequential and no longer pertinent, the successful join up with these Wardens had made sure of that. Cole wouldn't be forced to attempt to obscure my 'shine' and guards wouldn't simultaneously be compelled to open gates for seemingly none existent guests.

Already it was a game of roulette whether Cole was powerful enough to make 'someone so loud' be forgotten even for a short period; thankfully now it was unlikely we would need to test it. These Wardens were our ticket inside and Cole simply had to wag his forget me tongue for the split second it required to skip away and lose myself in the many faces within the fortress. Cole being Cole would be unmolested and able to linger near the gate until it was time to let in our awaiting troops, as I in the interim, would be somewhat free to search for my naughty dinner dates.

Barring a ludicrous number of personal guards, I should have managed to deal with either of them in one form or another before the Inquisition was driven into a battle.

Worst case scenario? The siege commenced despite an absentee Clarel or Erimond.

I mean it wouldn't be earth shattering or anything if it were to happen. There are contingencies and strategies in place. I was fairly confident -if not outright cocky I must say- in our elected tactics. If anything, I would be insanely disappointed if I didn't get to see the full formations spread out at least.

Would it look like a movie when I peered out over the battlements? A vast painting? Gosh it probably looked cool as shit, I just know it.

Sure, war: bad.

But man...

Nearly a half-dozen trebuchets primed and standing in imposing display, thousands of men and women in full Inquisition standard spanning a horizon... that must undoubtedly be a sight.

It was a marvel I was in any sort of position to fantasize about anything honestly, at the start I wouldn't have expected it to be so.

The anxieties, the suffocating apprehensions; they had all but vanished once Leliana was given her updated orders and I passed under Griffon Keep's portcullis with Cole. The dread that had stuck like a parasite since Erimond's escape had shriveled until nothing but a feeble whisper persisted.

Friends, comrades...lover...I didn't have to fear for them now. With this, their survival was practically assured.

If the Wardens refused to surrender; if the worst truly was to happen, each member would endure and pull through. I believed it down to the deepest pits of my soul. They were more than any soldier who fought beside them and they would not be fighting alone.

Dorian alongside Blackwall and Sera in the right Wing, Iron Bull leading his Chargers in the Fighting Line; there was risk yes -as there was with any battle, but they were far beyond the capabilities of an average individual to handle. Even still, they were together and wouldn't face bodily harm until they were well within Adamant's walls. I had gone to painstaking lengths to insure that.

Mages staggered amongst archers in the Wings, diffusing and broadening the dispersion of Rocky's smoke pouches as the strongest of their peers manipulated the wind from the Reserve lines. The whole of the battlefield would become one immense impenetrable screen of death within moments.

Boulders set aflame would bombard and rain from above to relentlessly pulverize Adamant's ramparts as Fighting and Support Lines advanced under cover of smoke to assail the gate and battlements with hook and ladder. Their Tortoise formations sheltering troops from the stray arrow or magic certain to be blindly shot onto the field from atop the walls while the Inquisition's second wave followed in their wake.

The magnum opus, the crowning masterpiece of Adamant's seizure was in that second wave.

It was from the Wings and their Flanks that magician's would gather and march beside scouts who had been held behind with the reserves. Energized planks in tow scout and mage would surge from the haze to join the bloody fray on the parapets. Riding platforms as though they were nothing more than primitive elevators and using those same platforms as battering rams when they reached the catwalks above. Overrunning Warden and demon alike with a swiftness that they would never even realize until it was much too late.

This, this was my strategy. Cloak and subterfuge to swarm and brutally crush the enemy.

If there was one thing to learn from the Byzantine Empire, it was war. I no longer had to fear losing someone now, solely I would harbor any real danger. The hazardous unpredictability of charging through wide open space was eradicated, the confirmed lethal confrontation with Nightmare fixing to be null and void. Though comrades would yet be in the thick of it, it would not be something they couldn't effortlessly manage.

Plus Cassandra as team leader to the most important cargo was another layer of additional insurance that essentially guaranteed things went smoothly.

As part of the left Wing they were already far removed from what I had come to dub 'the no-no danger zone'. However I wasn't leaving room for mishaps. If I couldn't stop them from engaging in the fight, then they would be as distanced from Apocalypse Courtyard as humanly possible. Cole had helped to bring Adamant's memories to the forefront and I trusted in my approximation of its location. Alistair and Hawke would never reach it before the castle and its men were completely under Inquisition control.

A strike of pure genius pairing Cassandra and Vivienne in the same squad. Cassandra being tough enough to demand compliance even from the most unruly while Vivienne was harsh enough to coldly enforce it created the perfect no-nonsense shackle.

With the both of them working in concert, Hawke and Alistair were as good as hobbled. They sure as shit weren't taking a step out of line and going anywhere.

Though maybe I had been a bit too dramatic in my message to Cassandra?

_Mm..._

_Nah, probably fine._

It was direct and to the point, aspects she absolutely loves.

I'm positive Cassandra got the gist.

_....nmm._

"Thank the Maker."

"At last."

"........."

Like an idiot my eyelids immediately pop open at the relieved hails. Should have at least _pretended_ to startle awake. Didn't seem to matter though, none of the men were paying much attention and were instead all eyes on the beast of a fortress rising tall from amidst dune and stone.

A moment later and Barak's excited, "hold tight." whoops in my ear a fraction before heels snap and we're off with a lurch.

" _Sh-!"_

Clutching him quickly as my knees desperately squeeze to keep my seat.

 _Ho~ balls. Really doin' this._ Feeling a tad nervous now as clouds of dust kicked up in our tracks and Adamant was growing ever closer with a disheartening speed. Hesitant before or not, didn't matter now, I was locked the fuck in.

Fare thee well sanity, top of the mornin' to ya dementia. Seems I have decided to reside here for all eternity. Oh, you say I've always been here thanks to Thedas? Ha ha, isn't that swell!

I really hope if Barak could feel the mad pound of my heart that he attributed it to the sudden bolting. There was no other way to take it besides 'bitch be panicking'. In ten seconds I was about to be scrutinized and surround by likely jumpy as hell Wardens. Forget the humongous red flag stamped on one side of my face, did I even look like a soldier? Were a few stolen items truly going to pass with people who weren't blinded by adrenaline and actually on the alert and vigilant? Holy nutsack, what had I been thinking?! Badly, badly; this was going to end so fucking badly. I was so goddamn scre-

"HOLD!"

"RIDE NO FURTHER!"

 _I'm going to die here._ Giving up and fully accepting it as crossbows appear in a flash to peek through gatehouse loopholes.

"WAIT! WAIT! STAY YOUR HAND!" Massius yells with a hard yank of his reins

Jerking us to a stuttering skid and halt alongside, "WE'RE UNARMED, WE'VE JUST ESCAPED AN INQUISITION PATROL AND COME BEARING NEWS." Barak boldly proclaims to the formless voices.

"OH, YEAH?! DO YA NOW?! AND I'M THE BLOOMIN' EMPRESS! NOW PISS OFF YOU TOSSERS BEFORE WE FILL YOUR GULLETS FULL OF IRON!"

"YOU MUST BELIEVE US DAFT. RIDE ON NOW, OR I LET MY MEN SHOOT YOU DOWN WHERE YOU STAND."

"WAIT PLEASE! WE SPEAK TRUE!" Urging his mount forward a pace as he desperately pleads. "I AM WARDEN MASSIUS, FORMER FIRST RECRUIT TO SENIOR WARDEN WEYLAN. I DEMAND TO SEEK WORD FROM HIM, HE WILL ATTEST TO OUR LEGITAMACY."

A tense moment passed where a weapon disappeared from above and a shadow could be seen presumably leaning to get a better view when a shout from farther along the wall rings out. I turned my head to get a glimpse of the mystery speaker but the parapet seemed deserted and I couldn't pinpoint where it was originating from exactly.

"Aye, he's one of Weylan's whelps! Wouldn't forget that smug face right before I wiped it clean when I won everything but the sorry boots he was wearin'!"

Laughter drifted overhead and the body tightly pressed at my back noticeably relaxed as tips of bolt-heads leisurely began to vanish from sight. The rigidness with which I had unconsciously stiffened my own slowly leeching away as I skimmed my gaze over the ramparts above before secretly scanning the adjacent area.

"WELL, GOOD TIDINGS, MASSIUS. NICE TO SEE YOU STILL IN THE LAND OF THE LIVING." Eliciting further chuckles.

Broadly smiling, "BARELY, IF ONE CAN STILL CALL IT THAT." He jests.

_Where...where was Cole?_

"MUCH AS I ENJOY CARRYING ON LIKE A LOVELORN YOUTH, CARE TO TAKE THIS PRIVATELY AND ALLOW US ENTRANCE?"

"....I'M SORRY. YOU KNOW I CAN'T DO THAT." Comes a reluctant reply.

"CAN'T, OR WON'T?" Warden Barak interjects.

"YOU HAVE CONFIRMATION OF OUR IDENTITY, WHAT PURPOSE DOES DENYING US SERVE?" Massius calmly challenges.

 _Something's wrong, he should be here._ Striving to maintain an impassive expression as I lower my chin to conceal the fugitive searching.

"MY ORDERS ARE TO ENSURE THESE GATES REMAIN BARRED. NONE IN OR OUT, I'M SORRY. BE GRATEFUL, MAYBE IT'S THE MAKER'S BLESSING THAT YOUR LIVES WON'T END HERE ALONG WITH THE REST OF US."

"BUGGER THA-!"

Interrupting with an uplifted palm to silence him, "TELANIS, OR BARLEN?" Massius yells up.

"....BARLEN." Sounding wary now.

Massius' humor resurfaces and a grin of unadulterated mischief immediately crosses his face at the news. "CONSIDER LAST HARVESTMERE FORGOTTEN IN REPAYMENT FOR OPENING THE GATE THIS ONCE."

"LAST...? WAI-HOW DID-?!"

"FIRST RECRUIT~" He wickedly chirps.

A virtually palpable pause blanketed the wall, then, "WHAT GUARANTEE IS THERE WEYLAN HONORS YOUR PROMISE?"

"YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY ONE OWING FAVORS." Massius rejoins frankly.

Again there was a laden quiet; presumably because Warden Barlen was considering the exchange, before a gruff command suddenly bellows. "GET THOSE GATES OPEN! SWIFTLY NOW, BEFORE I RETURN TO MY SODDING SENSES!"

Already our mounts plodded forward before the telltale heavy groan of hinge and wood resounded, and yet I was bereft and without the sense of accomplishment I should rightly experience.

Instead thoughts of how to hamper us a moment longer; to cause us to dawdle a few minutes more outside, maybe give Cole more time, was all there was.

Thoughts that perhaps I should fling myself from horseback, make a break for it gripped me. Twisting knots in my stomach with notions that might I not be better off on the run but assuredly alive instead of inferably dead --if not a most decided step closer to it--  that this current situation would unfailingly shape out to be. There were yet options open to me if I would but consider them. Tempting, oh so very seductively tempting me to do what I desired above everything else.

_Survive._

The sharp clop of hooves upon stone sounds and it was over.

Just that simply and the fears and vacillations were gone as my direction and destiny now inescapably became bound. The rigidity akin to a vise that was singular paths vanquishing them as our party passes beneath the oppressive arches of Adamant's gates. It was then as a resolution of steel came to roost that I witnessed the gaunt silhouette slipping from the shadows of the gatehouse in my peripheral. One I had personally observed melding into their surroundings on countless occasions, and right now brought a fiendish curve to my lips in preparation.

_Game on._

"I'm of the mind I might actually be owed a favor for this." Warden Barlen probably only half-jokingly declares as he laggardly trots down from the nearby stairwell and makes to meet us.

"Depends if I brought us our chance at victory, my friend." Massius says with a relaxed smile and jut of his chin to me before swinging from his saddle.

"Oh?" All eyes fell inquisitively -and expectantly- on me at that while I made to dismount.

Miracle of miracles, I did not start profusely pouring sweat or throw some flustered jazz hands. Instead with a smooth as silk, "just call me the Great Panis. I'm not big, but I get in there and get the job done." I salute and fire with a wink.

Faces skewed and there was more than one mouth wordlessly mulling the name of ultimate nondescriptness that it was difficult not to get a huge kick out of it. But there was very serious shit to get done, and I needed to take advantage of their speechless wonderment.

"Cole, wanna jump on in here buddy?" I ask with a turn my head to get the ball rolling.

Now _that_ certainly earned a few 'the fuck...?' expressions.

"......-?"

"The bla-?"

"Wha-?"

" _Tche!_ Maker, Massius! Did you bring someone touched in the hea- eh? Wha...how...how did I get here?" Blinking and looking around with a confused frown as he settled on the three riders standing in front of him. "Who are you? Why are you geared up? No one is allowed in or out, so better rethink trying to desert and make a run for it." Barlen states sternly.

"N-no...no, that wasn't it...we were...were..." Brows knitting together and appearing disoriented.

"Right...there was...was...something...? No, no that's not right either....?" Trying to help his friend, but there was...something...

"........"

"Sir?" A soldier hollers from the catwalk, leaning calmly over the support. "You okay? Where'd the girl go?"

"...Girl?" Barlen repeats in a low mutter. "Girl...was there..." rubbing his temple and squinting at the trio staring back, as if somehow it would help. "..a girl...?"

~

"Cole? You good, love?" Dragging my eyes from the bailey and casting a worried gaze at the face that appeared more wan than usual.

"Yes...sorry. It was harder than I expected."

Silently I studied features marred from exhaustion. Debating the truthfulness of that statement with a chew of my lip, but ultimately I didn't press. We had loitered too long, or more precisely, _I_ was loitering around here too long. If I dwelled beneath this alcove for much more, someone was bound to notice. Cole hadn't gone to such trouble to give me an opening for me to blow it milliseconds out of the starting gate. He had accomplished his mission, now it was time I nutted up and fulfilled mine.

"Stay safe, Cole, don't take more risk than you have to okay?" I say with a kind pat of his cheek in farewell. "Find a comfy corner to tide yourself over in until its time, no heroics alright? Either it's a flag or a dagger."

"But..."

"Cole." Soft yet starkly unyielding.

Mutely he capitulated, the blues of his eyes disappearing under the wide brim of his hat and I couldn't help the tinge of guilt at the action. "This _is_ how we help them, Cole, it's just that we won't get to see the results. That's how it is sometimes, and that's okay." I share sympathetically and give his chin a gentle chuck to buck up before I move to leave. I had only managed two steps when I pause and point without glancing back, "Cole...is that a wagon full of manure? I'm not imagining that magnificent pot of gold?"

"Yes?"

 _Ho ho ho....shit yeah!_ "That's concentrated poop right, solar peter?!"

"S-sela petrae?"

With a giddy snap of my fingers, "Yes!" _Sure._ "Think you can scrounge up charcoal and lyrium -probably other things too- without notice? I've got an idea that requires 'forgetting' that aromatic treasure trove." I pivot back with a maniacal gleam.

~

Damn, today was proving to be an awesome day. Seriously had to wonder what was about to take a squat and rain all over it.

Successfully enter and infiltrate Adamant Fortress? Check.

Happen to have -and spot- a cart full of brown wealth in blessed close proximity to Adamant's gatehouse? Double check.

Demons and Nightmare not frolicking the halls like whimsical princesses?

Well, maybe check...?

Crappy as it was to admit, I was bumping into a bit of a snag on _that_ front.

I had not made it particularly far from the bailey once I separated from Cole and left him to his new treasure hunt. People had posts and duties to attend, reasons to be and tread where they did. It was making for slow going; a goddamn snail's pace if I was being honest, to get anywhere. With much dodging and speedily ducking into rooms and behind objects, sometimes very _enthusiastically_ _occupied_ rooms I must add. No...I would not like to join, but I will take some grapes, thank you. Aren't you the gentleman.

Indeed, it was more difficult than initially anticipated to skip freely down Adamant's corridors. The fortress was teeming with jittery but readied Wardens. You could virtually feel it in the very air no matter where one went. Like a sizzle or an electric current of energy as emotions from hundreds of tightly wound individuals clashed within these sterile confines.

I understood and recognized that it would be so, that Adamant would be in a similar state as Griffon Keep when we departed, and yet...it just somehow had not clicked that regardless of milling foot-traffic one did not simply waltz wherever they pleased.

 _It always seemed so easy in movies._ I tiredly sigh for the umpteenth time from my cramped little corner.

It was getting hot as balls, not to mention draining as hell, wearing all of this armor. I was _not_ accustomed to touting around the extra thirty-plus pounds. And my muscles were beginning to ache something fierce from both the added weight and being bent into such stiff positions for so long. I kept wishing the stupid men outside would stop being so stupidly productive and leave so I could get out of this stupid storage --broom?-- closet already. I was sincerely losing it in here.

 _How long has it been, hours? An eternity? Yeah, definitely eternity._ Puffing a soft raspberry.

By my best estimation I had perhaps a day, two if Lady Luck was feeling incredibly generous this week, before Inquisition troops arrived and were amassing outside. Which meant I only had scant hours to safely and comparably, smoothly locate and nab one of two oafs.

From what I could gleam of the situation in-between skulking sessions, there was unrest and unease within the ranks. The blood sacrifice and demons were not sitting well with those still unmolested, but the greater fear of the Calling and looming siege was enough to hush their disquiet.

For now.

I had no illusions it would become a completely new ballgame once the attack started and unsuspecting Wardens witnessed their comrades becoming possessed one after the other beside them.

Why wasn't Adamant already overrun by demons? Why was there no colossal rift tearing a hole in the Veil and lighting this place up like a freaky Christmas tree? Why did this fort still feel so... _normal_?

They were questions that kept bugging the shit out of me while I waited. Wondering why, _why_ was this fortress not falling apart and descending into nightmarish chaos.

Nightmare was the demon I faced in the Fade, I knew it with crystal clear certainty, yet where was it? Why was it not skittering merrily through the desert already and causing people to piss themselves?

He, it, had read me. _It_ had read _me_. So why? Why was this place still a fortress on edge readying for battle like any other?

A trap maybe? A ruse?

_Unless that wasn't where he delved, it wasn't a space Nightmare had yet to reach..._

Perhaps? How was I to know for certain what Nightmare had found when he -it, went rooting around my brain, how far and deep it had reached in that short window? Only Nightmare could give me those answers and I sure as spit was not a-goin' searchin'. That hellish rabbit hole would firmly stay unexplored if I have anything to say about it.

Another weary breath escapes and I drag a gloved palm down my face, scrunching my nose in disgust when the scrape of sand and minuscule pebbles rasps along with it. _Great, made myself dirtier. Just fantastic._ Grunting irritably as I finally give up and collapse onto my butt and gingerly stretch out my legs with a hiss.

 _So much more exciting in the movies._ I huff.       


	92. Siege of Not so Covert Actions~

_**Brrruumm! Brum! Brrumm!** _

_**Bwwaaaahhh!!** _

" _Urgh...the fuck..._ " Groaning and shifting to sit up only to hiss in pain when kinks make themselves known. What jackass was banging on shit and blowing fucking warhor-

 _Warhorns!_ Utterly disregarding the insignificant aches and bolting straight up.

Holy nutsack I fell asleep?! Again??!! Where were my self-preservation instincts??!!!

" _Ugh!"_ Scrambling from the hard floor and dashing for the door.

_**Brrum! Brrum!** _

They were definitely the clamor of alarms being raised, the same bone-chilling quality that had been present during Corypheus' blitz on Haven was there within that eerie peal. It had begun, the Inquisition had arrived.

I spared a moment, pressing my ear tightly against the door's frame to listen and gauge the hallway's activity before carefully slinking outside with a quick glance down either direction. Judging it the opportune time and the coast clear, I pivot to brazenly stride deeper down passages and breezeways that logically should channel me towards the inner keep and its private chambers. Maintaining a facade of purpose and strength in my demeanor as though it was natural and I belonged with every right to be here. Praying and utilizing this latest development to make good use of the distraction and divide in focus to trudge the halls with a freedom that quite simply wasn't possible before.

Initially I was certain the mask had slipped, that I would be found out and stopped when I woodenly passed my first pair of Wardens. However they had only bestowed the briefest of looks as they went about their way. As I went from the second; the third, the jitters progressively ebbed as it became evident that so long as I continued to blend in, the men and women I passed had more important matters to fixate on.

Emboldened and now feeling rather secure with my disguise, I shifted part of my concentration to gathering and measuring information as I drifted from one corridor and ward to another. Keeping my ears open for news of what was happening and where particular troops and patrols were being diverted. An increase in guard or redirection had one of two reasons: bolstering of a specific fortification perceived weak, or the protection of something with value. And currently the sole things of value within residence were people.

 _Two people_.

Getting more daring with each inattentive regard that seemed to stare right through me as though I may as well be a decoration, I floated nearer to those I sidled past to hear better. Learning as I moved that the Inquisition was indeed here, though not fully. Light cargo alongside infantry was camped well out of range of arrow and magic with heavy siege equipment following perhaps a half-day behind judging by what they could see from their spyglasses.

So those blares of warning and this jump in hustle and bustle presently gripping Adamant wasn't because it was under attack. It was tidying up with finishing touches and gearing up for one...

Totally stupendous and horrendous all at once.

Hectic bustle: absolutely fabulous for operatives traipsing around. Half-day to locate very exact targets flittering about somewhere within that? Enormously poopy.

 _Holy balls, is this a goddamn maze?? I've already squandered I don't know how many hours on the floor, I don't have time for this!_ Growling in mounting frustration as yet another breezeway managed to lead to stairwells that would funnel to parapets in completely the wrong direction of the side of the fort I actually _needed_ to be.

The clock was rapidly ticking down and I was no closer to getting a handle on Clarel _or_ Erimond. I was rapidly losing this precious window I had been given and the fallout of that fact was steadily eating its way into my composure.

Ask for a guide, directions? Pretend naive incompetence?

_Shit!_

I couldn't. It was too much of a risk. Engaging anyone in conversation was dangerous.

_Double shit!_

I halt where I stood, shutting my eyes with a tip of my chin back as I slowly exhale, hoping for calm. This landing and its stairwell may not go where I needed it to, but it was all right. Minuscule as it seemed, there was time. I just had to remain cool to make the most of it.

 _Right, I could do this_. Inhaling and exhaling on a steadying breath once more before I nodded gamely and opened my eyes.

"You alright? Mages were call-" Eyes within a youthful face widen as I twist to stare up at the man who paused his descent from the stairs feet above me. "Y-you! It's you!"

_Eh?_

"How'd you get here?!" The man -if one could call him that- spits as he stomps down the remaining steps.

 _Who the fuck's this clown?_ Scrunching up at the lanky man-boy who stormed to practically bring his nose flush to mine.

"Think you can leave us buck naked then" _OH! "_ waltz in he-" _**Bap!**_ The youth collapsed on bent knee with a groan, clutching his temple in a daze.

 _Tche, damn, didn't punch hard enough_. About to wind up for another when noise floats from the battlements above.

_Ah, nutsack!_

"....crazy huh? Imagine watching his defeat." Whistling wistfully.

"Aye, or getting to see any tourney for that matter. Maker, do I miss the Free Marches." His friend sighed regretfully.

" _Nm._ " He grunts in agreement. "But the women..." Stopping and blindly slapping his brother on the chest to halt him as he tosses his chin to the landing below as a bubbly titter comes.

" _hehe oh~_...you naughty boy... _hehehe..._ "

" _uhh....urghh..._ "

With a hook of his thumb at the couple tightly clutched in an embrace below, "Maybe we take the other stairs. Unopposed as I am to watch, it's a sad reminder there's no one waiting in my cot." He whispers to him and cringes when another lust-filled moan rumbles from the man.

Shrugging his assent, he spins from the ardent display, but not before catching one last breathy twitter, " _hoho...ohhh..._ dirty bird, it's not your birthday. _hehehe..._ "

" _...urgghhh..._ "

"Lucky blighter..." He grumbles sourly and quickly picks up the pace.

Listening intently and hearing nothing except the dazed groans of the slumped man in my arms in my ear now, I crane my neck to check for sure that we were alone. Realizing that we were, I shift my weight and simply let go so that the youth toppled to the side and crumpled like a sack.

" _Urrggh....!"_

Ignoring the thunk, I stretch and roll my joints, trying to loosen the cricks after leaning backwards at such an odd angle. Then with a look at the concussed body, "you're welcome." I profess magnanimously. " _Urmph!"_ Stepping with most of my weight on his stomach on my way to the stairs.

If I was striking out on ground level, well maybe it was time I see what a higher vantage point had to offer.

~

_**KRREE!** _

Nimbly she twists her hips, avoiding the razor-like claws by scant inches and swings her sword upwards to cleave through jaw and bone. Feeling the ethereal stroke of the Fade as the Shade dissolves and she moves to engage another.

Embers lazily drift, faintly scorching barred skin as the sweltering heat of fires raged unrestrained. The cries that sung over stone as blood and fear choked the air becoming as thick as the smoke that billowed across the battlements as her squad pushed further into the chaos. Cutting through Warden and demon alike in their aim to subjugate and quell resistance on the Western wall.

Though ash clogged their throats and the stench of death coated their tongues, Cassandra relentlessly propelled them forward. Opposition was waning; yet even as heels splashed through pools of crimson and boots tread over lifeless limbs, numbers overwhelmed.

Shield raised, the heavy flail rebounds as her blade thrusts with a turn of her hips. "Mage style, mage grace, mage power-" _Zzzttt!_ "in your face!" Hawke jovially sings, cleanly dropping the large Warden Cassandra had been prepared to deal with.

" _Hrmph._ " She grunts without a glance at the Champion. She was more than capable of handling herself, and she certainly was not about to encourage the showy blustering by acknowledging it regardless of disappointed pouts crossing handsome face's.

Cassandra listened to what had become the ghastly melody of Adamant, to the screams of iron and echoes of valor that reverberated in an unavoidable symphony in her ears. Standing poised above yet another faceless soldier as a disquieting lull in combatants descended upon the parapets.

She took this moment to wipe the filth from her brow with the back of a gauntlet, likely only succeeding in smearing the gore but paying it no mind as Cassandra peered behind to gauge everyone's welfare. Strained, panting; yet not exhausted. Blood stained, theirs and others; but not serious. Good.

They were trusted comrades, not simply charges under her command. All may be expendable sacrifices in this war, but Cassandra wouldn't needlessly drive them to that without strict cause. And even then, there was one whom she had been tasked to protect above all else.

Plates, mails, leathers. Though blood flecked and streaked down many an armor, none ran in rivulets. Proving the Inquisitor's paranoid order to refit every member in fresh  'digs' had not been so wasteful after all.

Light-weight yet extremely dense leather peeked from beneath Varric's rumpled tunic as he reloaded Bianca and made a point to adjust the bolt canisters in his satchel. Alistair in partially plated chainmail closely resembled how she appeared she was sure as he bent to wipe his blade. Though the emblem of the Seeker Order was proudly engraved upon her breastplate as the Warden's was upon his, the splatter and gore that dulled the beautiful metal and general appearance of stress was surely the same.

If one discounted Hawke's boyishly ruffled hair, solely he and Vivienne with their thin mail and studded robes were a semblance of unharried soldier. How they had escaped the stain of ichor was boggling considering they had practically been in the midst of it alongside Alistair and herself. Even Solas wore evidence of this first hour painted across his cheek, and if there was more, it was difficult to determine from the darkness of his robes.

A fact that was worrying actually as she tilted her chin to put more of the bailey below in her periphery.

It had been startling -and intensely amusing, to behold the unremarkable tunic and leathers had been replaced with a robe of such quality Vivienne had looked envious. Though amazingly simple with its fathomless black and hint of rich gold, the deceptively delicate material was impossible to mistake as anything other than exceptional. A gift from the Inquisitor that had been reluctantly accepted she'd been told, a particular distinction Cassandra smiled about even now.

Feet away and the sensation of a substantial dampening enchantment could still be noticed. It saturated the refined robes, imbuing an aura similar to a shield deflecting most conventional magics from the wearer. However there was one more, an enchantment Cassandra could not quite determine, simmering beneath the surface. Perhaps it was merely an insignificant charm or infused as an afterthought by the weaver, but it had made her curious. Nevertheless, whatever it may be, Cassandra would need to take care that she remained nearer and ensured that a few stains and scratches were all that he managed to suffer this evening.

It was impossible to know how the other squads were faring but she was confident they remained whole. Despite the scant glimpse of the gates and what had seemed to be trouble of keeping them open, the Bull's Chargers alongside Cullen's infantry had swiftly blown through from the deafening explosion they had not only heard, but felt, when mounting their own assault of the wall. And knowing Sera and Blackwall, doubtless they were turning this into a sport while Dorian made it a production to demonstrate the elegance of magic.

The Maker was with them, they were whole, Cassandra was certain of it. And they would see righteousness win this night, she could feel it.

Turning from the team at her back with a roll of her shoulders, Cassandra stalked farther along the battlements. Renewed and invigorated for the next round of unfortunate souls as more and more Inquisition soldiers breached Adamant's defenses and amassed to join them on the wall. Warden reinforcements would soon pour from further within the fortress, she could discern the clamor of their rallying even now, but it would be too little too late. The Western ramparts were as good as theirs.

" 'Stick _this_ in your Taint, Blighty'. _Haha ahh..._ glorious." Giving her pause to look behind. "What? It's clever." Hawke shrugs at Vivienne's droll expression, pointing to the sundered boulder fragment.

Smirking in spite of herself and about to advance on, "Cassandra, we should use this opportunity to find Clarel. They have a foothold, your men will have this area without our help. The Warden-Commander poses the bigger threat now." Alistair voices.

Facing him fully, "the Inquisitor wanted us here, Alistair. I understand the impatience you must feel." Cassandra says sympathetically.

"And I could also flick my bullocks for an hour, but that serves as much purpose as us loitering here twiddling our thumbs." Hawke contends with a humorous snort and merely quirks a brow when she glowers at him. "It's true." He waves airily with a relaxed cant of his posture and prop of his staff on his shoulder.

"As leader of our little merry band, Cassandra, I of course will abide with whatever you decide, my dear, but remaining here does present a certain...wastefulness of our skillset." Vivienne shrewdly supplies.

Accurate as the assessment may be, she couldn't possibly...

"You have witnessed more than your share of conflict, Seeker." Solas evenly remarks. "Those Mages who are spellbound will continue to grow, and demons will flock to their call. We stand to lose the advantage we once held. Without first handling the source, our forces cannot stand against the demons for long. You have seen enough to realize when change becomes necessary, Cassandra. Tis a hard lesson for any leader."

Hooking his thumb, "what the hairless one said," Hawke quips with a rhythmic tap of his weapon against his shoulder.

Perhaps, but...

"Look, Seeker, I know it seems like we're ganging up on you," _It_ did! "it isn't the case. We're only trying to help. You think we should stay here, we stay here -no one's contesting that. If you believe it's better we help overtake this place before the sky starts shitting demons again, then that's what we'll do --that is, if our Inquisitor doesn't accidentally blow it to smithereens before then." Varric casually mentions.

A wavering, sighed grunt rumbles from her as Cassandra listened and debated the wisdom of their counsel. She couldn't think clearly with all of them gathered sedately around her and their eyes trained expectantly on her, waiting for an answer. In the midst of a deafening battleground or not, it was easier to think and decide when she wasn't being stared at like that.

Cassandra tipped her chin to the side, away from those staunch regards and towards darkly sinister turrets laying so near they were almost mocking.

Remain or press on.

Follow orders or take a chance.

If they stayed, doubtful they would encounter anything more than negligible risk; Inquisition troops were bolstering their presence by the minute even as they spoke. Yet if they stayed, how many men might they uselessly lose because of it? How many more foolishly misguided Wardens would become possessed or die while they idled here? And the Herald...

Where was the Inquisitor? Was she safe, fighting? Captured? How was she faring, would she be fine without everyone driving to end this siege as swiftly as possible? Would this indecisiveness ultimately lead to her harm? This would all amount to nothing if Lavellan was lost...

In the end, the Herald was more important than any outcome of this battle. Without her, there was no fight, no _hope_.

Fingers tighten around on the hilt of her sword before she turns to the men and woman at her back. "We're going." Cassandra announces firmly.

~

I was losing hope.

Hands in my hair clenched into hard fists as I hunched with head bowed, riding the tide of fluctuating emotions.

Anger, desperation.

 _Fury_.

I should have killed that young Warden --and the one who had come after. I should have left a trail of bodies in my wake, left no witnesses; then none of this would be happening. I was going to fail, and it would all be due to my own incompetence.

Damn.

_Damn!_

The only saving grace in this shit storm had been that none knew who 'the suspicious Dalish' was. An interloper suspected of Inquisition ties --for why else would an unnamed intruder sneak in on the eve of a siege?

A call-to-arms, an alarm; they had yet to be raised but it felt like it was only a matter of time. Low key and hushed was how it seemed my abrupt presence was being handled. Whispers and concisely vague orders issued to detain and report any unknown Dalish Wardens as soon as they were spotted. Messages that were being passed by word of mouth and only adding fuel to the mystery of 'who' this Warden was and what they could have done to warrant such importance when the Inquisition was gathering outside to unceremoniously bugger their day.

Minutes? Hours?

It was impossible to guess how long I have been an antsy mess hunched in the dark, hiding from potential bypassers and search parties. Each time I thought the hall outside quiet; the coast clear, the fuzzy babel of chatter would rudely sit me back down. It was a nerve-wracking cycle that continued endlessly without reprieve. I couldn't even cast a weak spell to feel better and illuminate my surroundings for fear the glow would be seen from the crack underneath the door.

Again; minutes, hours? How much had been squandered this round?

I was no nearer my objective, was it time for a fuck-all option, go in guns a-blazin' as they say?

Fingers relax, combing back to slide down the base of my skull and neck before my elbows come to rest on bent knee. Though blind, silently I considered my palm. Lightly skimming the fingers of my right over a glove of soft leather that concealed the Anchor, up chain that covered unearthly veins of sage, experiencing an answering thrum at the caress.

 _Would you last?_ I despondently wonder with a shut of my eyes and halt of the feather-light graze, settling over the ghostly tracks with a hopeless clasp.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

This was my current reality.

Roll the dice on driving my way to Clarel and Erimond, get one or both of them before anything happens and pray the Anchor's leash stays whole, or; hold on, wait for back-up, and deal with them alongside whatever crazy garbage they have doubtlessly summoned.

Slowly a puff of breath releases. Either scenario carried huge liability and the very real possibility of dissolving gaseous arm syndrome --if not outright full body detonation and death. However... just one exponentially increased the odds of fatality.

Alistair and Hawke were safe with Cassandra, but if Nightmare was freed or a portal to the Fade is opened, then Thedas may attempt to realigned itself. Clean and restore its timeline as it were. I had already experienced just this same aggravating phenomena more than once. If that happened, it _was_ guaranteed death on my part. I had not been toying around when I told Cassandra she held my life in her hands. If crap really did hit the proverbial fan, then I know I would somehow find myself jumping in to help them and subsequently end up croaking in a vapory poof because of it.

 _No help for it then, eh?_ Smacking my forearm with a nod and _tsk_. _Alright, Thedas, challenge accepted. Let's play._

Light sprang to life, chasing shadows and gloom away as I unfurled and came to my feet. The glare from the miniature flame in my palm as I hoisted it higher, like a personal torch, illuminating a modest chamber best described as a neglected junk room. I lingered in my corner only long enough to scan a cursory eye over clutter I'd been too preoccupied to notice in my haste to hide before I slinked from shelter. Spotting nothing of benefit and moving for the door, reaching for the latch when the thunderous crack of a tremendous boom resounded.

The whole of Adamant seemed to quake as the stone beneath my feet shuddered and dust fell in a shower over my face. " _Phbt!"_ Coughing and losing the meager light as my hands slap against the door to steady myself.

_Wha-?_

Yells reverberated and filled the hall outside, penetrating the confused haze as I coughed and frantically fumbled for the latch. Pulling with all my might and ungainly tumbling out when I did.

_The hell was happening?_

Otherworldly shrieks, shouts; erupted pandemonium assailed already addled senses as echoes of mayhem funneled through the hall amidst languid clouds of dust. Disorienting and disconcertingly jarring when a roaring crash and clack briefly swallows the sounds of chaos, shaking the very foundations. I stumble, lurching towards the exit I had been attempting to reach before when another, then another, booming crack of something colossal smashing into unforgiving stone nearly drowns out all else in rapid succession. Each blow sending a massive shudder through Adamant that left me reeling and careening into the wall as I struggled to escape the incrementally thickening haze.

It had begun in earnest, Adamant was under siege.

I grit my teeth though the coughs, pushing to move faster, heedless of the bruises and pain as I repeatedly bumped and tripped. Needing out _now_. Needing to get to Clarel.

Heat started to kiss my face, then penetrated the layers I wore that served to magnify it the deeper I went. Leaving dirty tracks on my skin as sweat poured down and I came to a portion of corridor that had collapsed on one side and only rubble and fire remained of the chamber that had once been there.

I could see the exit through the smoke, and I did not hesitate to get down and bear crawl under the toppled support beam blocking the way. Clearing the hall with a speed born more from nervousness of being buried alive than physical prowess and gasping a painful yet grateful lungful of fresher air. Plumes, smoke, fires; it was the first sight that my mind perceived once freed of the protective shroud of Adamant's hall.

Great rocks burned embedded in battlements and walls while others lay shattered and scattered, spreading their infernos where they could. Searing heat clawed at my neck a split-millisecond before a roaring whoosh jetted overhead. I instinctively twisted my face away with a raise of my forearm to shield myself as a flaming boulder crashed into the parapets nearby, spraying embers and debris in an indiscriminate shower.

Definitely a signal to GTFM -get the fuck moving.

Wardens sprinted and shouted to each other, demons glided or trudged alongside in a deceptively docile fashion beside their 'comrades' as they rushed to provide reinforcements. An image of a fortress awash in ruin and havoc as smoke billowed and fires burned. Unflinching I drove forward into those crowds, sifting past in the opposite direction of the Wardens and the riotous turmoil engulfing what should be the gates.

 _They're there. I have to believe they're there._ Stride becoming longer and longer as feet propelled me faster and faster until I was jogging then outright running in an uncaring race to the inner courtyard.

Trebuchets continued a merciless bombardment that decimated the ancient fort, flinging embers and stone overhead with every strike, utterly crumbling catwalks and small towers in others. Yet they were becoming less frequent as I haphazardly dodged and vaulted over incoming rubble, whether from worry about friendly fire or the inevitable decrease in ammunition was unclear.

The smoke stung my eyes and coated my throat in a stifling clog that made it difficult to breathe but I kept going. Skidding to a stop when the stairs ahead were spotted to be destroyed and spinning to take a different catwalk to adjacent battlements. Moving with a single-minded purpose that, looking back, perhaps saved me from completely freezing in scared hysteria. The preparatory musings and mental simulations didn't even compare to reality, to the disturbing bedlam of countless cries of death and destruction that would linger and haunt me for the rest of my days.

As I jogged a fully plated Warden emerged from the turret to my right, pausing in his pursuit to shift and rest his breastplate comfortably to look at the Dalish oddly bolting _away_ from the fighting taking place on the walls and baileys behind us.

_Ignore it dude...don't do it..._

Mouth pinching with confusion, "why," automatically pivoting and Fade Stepping in a direct collision course with the burly human, "are-" _**Tung~!**_

Priming for a second enhanced punch as he staggers back a pace with a shocked clutch of the dented plate, "sorry, my man, but Suicidal Idiocy plan is a-go." I blithely apologize, and aim the second punch into his sternum again.

He drops to his knees, hunching over to cradle himself. The struggling wheeze emanating from his downed form assuring me he would stay that way. Done, and determining there was no point to continuing, I half-turn but stop and turn back to consider the Warden. Tilting my chin with an 'eh, why not?' gesture, I yank the winged helm from his bowed auburn head before spinning away again.

 _Meh, couldn't hurt._ Shoving on the overlarge piece as I start to sprint once more. Anything to help me blend in and avoid more fights than necessary.

Whether the loose helm actually aided in that endeavor or not, who knows. Wardens sparing the time to speak or turn my way with a questioning glance continued to happen, though not as often as encounters with the stray demon or Possessed. A sight and an occurrence I was spotting and running into more often it seemed the longer the siege  drew on.

Or perhaps it was merely a clue I was getting closer to ground zero.

Regardless of the sporadic Warden tango, demons and the possessed were becoming a major pain in the ass. Either they weren't as easily fooled with dress up, or they were simply rearing for a kill. Whichever it happened to be, it was draining as hell. Having to make a conscious effort to tone everything you did down was damn exhausting. My body and every muscle felt fatigued from lugging the excess weight and running around like a jackass, while my throat and lungs burned from trying to breathe past the smoke and ash. Not to mention the monster headache I was sporting from the strain of trying to use magic delicately.

I do _not_ do delicate.

'Delicate' and 'efficiently' were the farthest from what I did when wielding magic. 'Crude', or, 'jumbled hot mess', sounded about right. Anyone saying differently would hysterically be laughed out of the room.

It was the reason I was incapable of casting many spells, even those considered rudimentary or with the added aid of a spirit. Barriers --any type really? Explodes. Energize 'X' object? Explodes harder. Healing? Practice object pops like a birthday balloon. Try again, but with help from someone experienced or even the passing benevolent spirit who took pity? Ho-ho...nope. Get the fire extinguishers please.

It was fine really, I didn't much mind. Realizing causing wanton destruction was all I was good at was A-Okay in my book. Super fun actually. Nevertheless it had its significant drawbacks, being severely taxing  when _tactful_ was the goal being merely one of them.

Why was this suddenly a big problem, after all the battles and skirmishes without those highly invaluable skills? Well, the giant ass crater staring me in the face for one.

Adamant --thanks to some maniacally deranged architect-- was built akin to a quadranted maze. Varying levels and catwalks; each with their own breezeways, turrets and battlements. The true experience of raging vexation with passages and stairs that lead to nothing or the exact opposite of the direction you actually _intended_ to go whilst seemingly very few channeled where they logically should. Yet now I was being presented with a short cut. A cindery, bone-snapping-if-I-miss-so-you-know-it's-totally-legit, short cut.

 _Woof._ I incredulously puff, unconsciously patting the top of my skull as was my habit to sign my uncertainty and reluctance.

Goddamn miraculous mystery how I had ended up on one of the tallest catwalks in this sector, but there was no mistaking that this _was_ favorable for me --all things considered. I could see and mentally map more of Adamant's layout than previous vantage points had allowed, and right now there lay a very convenient -very expedient, way into the section I needed to be in a dozen feet from where I stood.

Before the missile assault by boulder had gradually decreased then ceased altogether, one had managed to strike here. I did not see the colossal rock from where I was --probably because it rolled to the level below, but it was evident one had smashed a hole into the neighboring curtain bulwark. Taking out a decent portion of catwalk and stone barrier that still burned courtesy of the tar it left behind.

Now, I wasn't a fucking grasshopper, and I certainly wasn't one of those special Thedas races that could jump around like they were frogs and their legs were made of goddamn rubber-bands. I wasn't capable of hopping onto the barrier and then proceeding to leap -and clear- a good ten feet to the wall beyond on a _perfect_ day. When it felt like lethargy had basically wormed its way into my entire being? Yeah, where did Thedas keep its emergency stretchers again? And elf-sized spatulas were a thing, right?

Honestly I was only entertaining this idea because I needed to gain back some of the time I'd lost --however paltry-- and the boulder had created a divot similar to a scoop in the nearby bulwark. A tiny part of the stone barrier on mine had crumpled too, either from collateral damage or age so there was a small empty space in the railing. Truly, if there wasn't this straight shot, I would not be contemplating it. But there was, and it would put me one scary vault closer to where I needed to be.

" _Brrfff!"_ Forcefully expelling my breath with a psyching shake. _Hold on to your straws, momma's goin' graspin'!_ Whirling to about face and marching resolutely as far back as this stretch of catwalk would allow. " _Brrff! Gonnadiegonnadie..._ " Bracing in a runners stance, not at all confident in this plan. Bouncing once, twice, then I was off like a rocket.

A weird thing happened then just as I had made it to the half-way mark. A sensation, a feeling...there was something familiar that tickled the hairs on the back of my neck, raising them...bearing down at a breaking speed and getting closer...

Twisting my head to glance out at the bailey in the distance without stopping, _Eh?_

~

" _Ho-ho,_ shit! Nice shot!" Hawke whoops. "Always amazed that you can still see -let alone hit anything, with those elderly eyes of yours. Gets me every time, very impressive." He praises with a staff salute.

Cassandra agreed --with the precision part. If she was in the habit of whistling, she would have. Fortunate for her, the others took care of conveying the impressed awe all on their own.

Gloved hand still shielding his eyes as he squinted at the now deserted wall high above, "bad as I feel for my brother-in-arms, that was a sight. How did you manage to make it from here?" Alistair whistles.

"Practice." Comes the aloof reply, earning a few askew looks and a groaning eye-roll from Kirkwall's Champion.

Cassandra wanted to sigh or snort in amusement; why was she not surprised.

The going was sluggish, what with the constant threats and aggravating arrangement of Adamant's design, but with many a collapsed wall or demolished stairwell, they were quickly navigating and gaining ground. So it was palliative when moments such as this briefly interrupted the horrors they'd been forced to witness to get this far.

Warden against Warden, possessed against man, demon against all. It had been shocking to come upon Wardens struggling against other Wardens, desperately trying to stay alive or remain as themselves. They no longer knew who the enemy was, and it had taken everything her team had to save those few that they could from themselves. Without Alistair, she was certain they could not have persuaded many of those Wardens to lay down arms and surrender. Orlais Order would always carry this scar and remember this night, but what would ultimately be their future and legacy would hinge on the Inquisitor. After the atrocities committed in the wake of their foolishness, Cassandra had no doubt the Herald would do away with the vulnerability they presented and justifiably banish them.

Perhaps even that was more than they deserved, however it was not her place to pass down judgment. She simply hoped the Herald would find a solution that was just.

Cassandra flicked the blood from her blade with a sharp gesture before shifting to move on. Indicating without a word that they were to keep going and that the others were to follow. She surveyed the catwalks as she did, searching for potential danger while simultaneously on the alert for friendlies.

Cole should be nearby, he had found them during their struggle for the main bailey. Yet he had made it a pattern to periodically vanish only to join them once more without preamble after having 'helped'. What he had helped with or who, Cassandra was still unclear on. At least she did not seem to have to worry about him and assumed he would return soon enough.

"She felt the warmth before it came. Committed. Considerate. Careful so it won't break. They managed to miss the other."

Spinning at the voice and barely stopping herself in time to avoid reflexively striking out at the boy. "Cole! How many times must I tell you, do not come up behind me!"

"Sorry." He says quietly as she sighs.

"Someone else you helped, Kid?" Varric asks in an obvious attempt to focus him elsewhere.

Lifting his gaze and calmly pointing to the battlements moments before Solas had shot a Warden from, "no, the Inquisitor."

The immediate horrified expression that bathed her features was nothing compared to the sickened one suffusing the reclusive mage's.


	93. Siege of...uh...Siege!

_O~W!_

Cullen you glorious bastard, I'll never poke fun of your armor choices ever again!

" _unh..._ " Rubbing my chest with a pained groan. I didn't have to lift my head or shift from the winded prone position I found myself in to know I'd escaped with nothing save some bruises thanks to Cullen's gift -and probably, definitely, physics.

 _World of magic and yet some rules of velocity can still apply, ha, in your face, Thedas._ Sitting up with a grunt and peering down to get a gander of the damage. _Wah! Scary~_ Patting singed and blackened edges. _Asshole nailed me dead center mass._ Picking at the hole burned through both surcoat and gambeson in applaud.

That hadn't been a difficult shot, it had been _impossible_. I was fairly sure I had been far, _far_ , from any Inquisition troops. And damn high up compared to them too. Bastard timed it just right, zinging me when I passed in-between the break in the barricade crests. How the balls had they managed _that?_ Holy bag of dicks but I _had_ to find that mage after this. They didn't know it yet, but they'd just submitted one sizzling résumé. Bitch just became hired.

It was weird though, could've sworn it felt familiar...

 _Meh_. Disregarding it with a shrug and lumbering to my feet. Likely just my imagination or something. It was hard to get a read on anything accurately really, what with the state of things. Shit was soaring through the air willy-nilly and don't even get me started on the demons and all the bullcorn that stemmed from _that_ ludicrous rubbish. It's a wonder I didn't spontaneously implode from wired sensory overload.

I hiss through my teeth when I extend both arms to stretch, getting little pinpricks and tweaks of soreness at the movement. _Geez, tonight just isn't my night_. Lowering the limbs with a huff as I tip my chin to stare overhead.

Climb again and retry the leap, hopefully without the presence of some super magical sniper mage this time; or try the ol' luck locating another route to El Apocalipsis Courtyard.

" _pfff..._ "

Second time's always the charm, right?

I glance both ways, searching for stairs that would return me to the catwalk two levels above. At least scaffolding and debris had cushioned the momentum of the fall when I tumbled off, because, _ouch_. Seriously would not have been pretty otherwise.

Goosebumps pebbled my skin when a gentle breeze began to rustle my hair, carrying with it a subtle trace of countless residual magics that pricked and tingled along my spine. Utterly eerie and freaky all at once and something that prompted a bothered knead of my nape to alleviate the feeling as I picked a stairwell and got moving. I noticed then that I had lost the helm somewhere between pitching ass-over-end and bouncing to a stop, but it wasn't something I was going to stress over. Especially since there was something else that would come in _much_ handier resting at the foot of the stairs I'd chosen.

I hesitated with a reluctant chew of my lip, halting when I stood inches from a wayward redwood staff and the very dead body inches beyond that.

I toed the weapon with a nudge of my boot and squinted suspiciously at the deceased mage who slumped at an odd angle on the last stony steps. There was no blood present, no outward wounds to signify a struggle on the woman's clothes or barred flesh, merely -presumably- her staff a foot from an open palm and a darkly tinted flask lightly clasped within slackened fingers. Serenity softened homely features, giving her an expression of peace, and I had to wonder if it wasn't perhaps a chosen passing. Certainly plausible given current happenings within Adamant. Yet it wasn't my concern what the reasoning may be, simply if this scene was truly what it appeared to be.

Or what it was _meant_ to appear to be.

I prod the staff again, making it scrape a little and roll before I gingerly bend then snatch it up with a quick snap. Fully anticipating something to go off directly in my face or some sort of zombie rising from the grave type shenanigans despite how off the beaten path this branch of breezeways and catwalks was. I'd had to learn the hard way fast that things were not always what they seemed in Thedas, and I did not take this at face value either even after giving a wide berth to circle the body and still nothing changed. It wasn't until I jogged the steps and reached the stairwell I'd climbed earlier that I allowed myself to relax.

Hunkering down and taking the steps bear-crawl style with staff in fist, _Alright, prepared this time, you're not getting lucky a second time, douche bag. Not today Satan!_ Stealthily crouching towards the barricade and cautiously peeking out. _Huh. Coast clear, Ghost Rider._

 _Well, relatively._ Straightening with cluck of my tongue. It was goddamn anarchy down there. After spying that, absolutely it had been better I hadn't joined the siege. No question that magnitude of all-encompassing chaotic furor would have sent me into a trigger-happy haze. Too much happening and going on simultaneously in every direction, there just had not been enough training or time to have prepared myself for that. I would have been a huge liability without a doubt.

A sliver -okay, mammoth chunk- of nervousness fluttered in my belly, but this time I would not waste time. _Balls to the wall...-hopefully not into it._ Marching with a light toss of the staff to grip its middle instead before rotating into a sideways bounding step yards from the drop-off and hurling the staff like a javelin to the bulwark beyond. It flew a little off-target and skidded over the rim of the opposing catwalk but it made it, which was the important thing.

Spastically wiggling to limber up, _my turn._

Backpedaling hastily before I could calculate the depth of this folly, I shove off in a flash and sprint as hard as tired legs could push. Arms and legs pumping with a speed born from sheer adrenaline as the distance rapidly dwindled and abruptly stone gave way to emptiness.

Weightlessness, the sickening churn of nothingness; gone in a blink.

Limbs flail, flapping for purchase a second before I miss the mark and slap into unforgiving rock. Sliding in an uncontrolled careen down ruined wall, clawing at demolished stone as the rubble within my grasp crumbled. Fingers dig in, trying to slow my descent a moment before the absence of resistance vanishes from beneath booted toe, chased in an instant by shin and knee. Tips catch, jerking my fall to a lurching halt, viciously wrenching my arms in their sockets. Straining already sapped strength as fingertips desperately clung to prevent my plummet to solid ground below.

Growls rumbled from my chest as toes cautiously sought leverage against the wall, struggling to hoist myself up and over the ledge without slipping further. A crack; a space between the mortar, and then there was just enough anchorage to heave myself higher. I cursed and clambered, laboriously inching a path to the catwalk. Striving with everything I had left in the tank until the way eased and I mounted the platform moments later. Incredibly nauseous, attempting to breathe, I wheezed and panted. Hanging my head and shutting my eyes with a squeeze as I trembled there on hands and knees. I coughed and it was the best I could do not to gag, knowing I would vomit if I did.

 _Too much. Can't. I-I can't..._ Rising to bent knee and fumbling blindly for the belt at my waist. Feeling suffocated as I tore the leather from my hips and reached to yank the surcoat over my head. Flinging the garment away before fingers clumsily turn to the buckles of my gambeson. Lapels parted and I shoved the armor from my shoulders, leaving me in nothing except my mail. I drop back on my heels, sucking in gulps of air as the sensation of oppression and heat abated. Finally able to _breathe_.

The chilling sonata of Adamant gradually penetrated, reminding me of where I was, of what my mission _still_ remained to be.

Inhaling with a swallow, I open my eyes and look down in search of my belt. Securing and cinching it once more around my hips to keep the chainmail fitted before shuffling to my feet and beginning a second search for my runaway staff.

It had rolled and landed down into the ground breezeway but that was fine. I had to go that way anyway.

There was a distinct lack of pep in the ole step while I moved to retrieve the weapon, however there wasn't a lot to be done about it. I was exhausted and simply couldn't muster the energy even if I wanted. This very _human_ person needed a momentary rest from dashing through halls like a victim stuck inside a B-movie slasher.

 _No use complaining, predicament's my own doing_. I internalize with a sigh as I descend the final steps on laden feet. _Basically sitting awesome all crap considered._ I conceded while ambling over and scooping up polished wood.

Which was true when I thought about it. Managed to keep magic usage to a bare minimum, wasn't particularly injured, hadn't boofed into the Jolly Green Cloud yet --yeah, not too shabby I guess.

 _Kinda a tad proud of myself when I put it that way_ , nodding to myself as I prop the staff on a shoulder and haughtily walk on.

I mean, wrangling a weapon and commandeering it wasn't a great feat or anything --sort of in the middle of a _medieval fortress under siege_. That wasn't even a blip on the radar as a list of concerns when sneaking in unarmed. Nope, more about all the others aspects of being alone during a violent suppression that I patted myself on the back for. Granted, it had more to do with stupid amounts of luck than anything else, but hey, an achievement's an achievement. Go me.

Odd though it was, the channels and breezeways I entered were quiet. As the harrowing ring of metal and flesh sang over mortar, growing louder and bearing down with each passing breath; it was there in these passages that remained seemingly untouched and calm. I tipped my chin to stare at the heavens above, finding this lull amidst the eye of the storm peculiar despite its benefit to me. Dreaming up a number of outlandish things as to why as I gazed at the beauty of a star-filled sky and moons-

_The moons!_

Eyes widening with a vehement curse.

I was fucking heading West. _Fuck!_

 _Wrong, wrong, WRONG! Goddamn it, I'd estimated wrong!_ Marching with quite a bit more strength now as I ground my teeth. Utterly pissed at myself and the lapse as I lowered my arm and clenched the staff's shaft so hard it hurt.

_Should have realized it would have an entrance in the West too! How could I have missed something so elementary?_

At a loss for the depth of this blunder, questioning what the devil I'd been thinking.

Yes the courtyard _was_ more centralized in its location. And yes, coming from the East ultimately _had_ led to the Warden showdown, but it had been the _West_ fortifications that the Inquisitor had briefly skirted before they found their entry into Bad Day Quad. How the balls had I forgotten that? UGH!

Experiencing the overwhelming urge to flip a table, or kick a door --whichever had the unfortunate fate of being in my way first.

I heard it then, an inaudible rallying inflection. An indiscernible feminine voice of mettle shouting below the turmoil steadily consuming Adamant.

Immediately I hastened my pace, registering the muffled speech in spite of being unable to clearly hear its speaker. Rapidly eating up the long breezeway as I recognized it could only be one woman. Practically running once more when the words faintly began to carry from over the wall.

"-ayed by the very world we are sworn to protect!"

I stutteringly skid, knowing I was out of time and virtually chuck the staff as I hard as I can up and over the curtain wall the voice drifted from. Having reached the zero shits given stage, I flick 'tiny' spears of condensed magic at the bricks in my face. Staggered holes, as if a giant with roid rage had punched the wall appeared in the stone, and like a bug I leapt at it without hesitation.

"Though it may abandon us, we shall not do the same. From this darkness..."

Everything was screaming in protest, but I barely perceived it as I scurried up. All my senses, my awareness, all had narrowed to a razor focus and there was nothing except the way ahead.

"...a new light will be born."

Hooking an elbow, then a leg at the top; I shimmy up and over, dropping without a care for the height.

"Even if we fear,..."

 _Argh! Frail bones! Frail bones!_ Hopping at the monster sting, I wobble forward and to the right, snatching up my staff as I went.

"...the Maker watches over us..."

 _Fucking architect!_ Internally screeching as I bound up a short staircase, taking two at a time in an effort to continue tracking the speaker.

"Wardens, believe in our cause one last time."

I emerged, cresting the catwalk, and immediately wished to vigorously swear anew.

There; there was the courtyard spread below and afore me, yet I was stuck on a portion of its Eastern wall. A portion that merely ran the quad's length partway before sharply diverting into an acute turn. I could get closer to the stark figures standing on the square's balcony by racing along this strip of catwalk, but it would end long before I was remotely near to reaching them. Stranded. I was stranded.

A woman of stoic beauty despite a glaring scar marring her cheek resolutely turns from the man who spoke at her side, and held her arms to another who bravely stepped to join her. No fear, no hesitation; simply belief. I knew what this was, where it would lead. Clarel. Erimond. The sacrifice was already well underway.

Squatting with a grasp of the walk's ledge, "CLAREL! STOP!! HOLD YOUR DAMN TITS!" But already it was too late. The glint of metal gleamed in her hand as it sliced across the male's throat and the wash of crimson that flowed in its wake already stained the stone as I jumped to the ground below. "CLAREL!!"

It was worse, far, far worse than anything depicted within the game, for how could it have captured the deluge of malevolence trapped within one solitary courtyard. The wisps and spectral mist of the Fade that spilled from a summoning circle, pouring like a ghostly ink over an elevated dais and those present, wrapping and curling in sinister tendrils as if they caressed in an ominous promise. Or the hollowed eyes of bespelled mages, the haunted cast of Wardens yet waiting to be sacrificed, or those few who stood in disquieted uncertainty as they watched their brothers' murder. The frigid chill that leaked from the Fade as it stroked my skin one I had never experienced despite the countless rifts I had encountered before. I sensed it, felt it creeping over me when I touched down and stumbled upright to face the eerie stage Adamant's inner courtyard had become. Perceived it well as I stared across and up to the pair of eyes of my targets and moved forward, farther from the fringe and deeper into a quad clustered with Wardens and its baleful mist.

"Stop her! We must continue with the ritual!" Setting himself slightly apart from Clarel, prompting those who had yet to take notice of my interruption to do so now and a few Wardens to separate themselves from the pack.

Far from cowed and _tisking_ with a small wave of my staff at them, "Don't tempt me~" at the same moment Clarel's Orlesian lilt rose up to stay everyone's step, including my own.

"Hold!" A lift of her hand and that was all it took for them to obey. Clarel never even glanced to determine if the order was followed or not, completely assured in her command. Instead, her gaze locked on me and remained there, feeling strong and unrelenting even from this distance. "I do not recognize your face, but I see you have forsaken our Arms. You may have chosen to turn your back on duty, but those here do not. Go. There has been enough Warden lives wasted this day."

"No can do, Madam!" I loudly counter, beating Erimond to the punch before he could worm his way in. "There's been a bit of a miscommunication, Queen Bee, I'm no Warden. I'm Akira. Part-time leader of the Inquisition, seeker of bootylicious Elves, and full-time stupendous jackass!"

"The Inquisitor..." Surprise, incredulity; the first chink in that demeanor of fortitude.

"A stall tactic, nothing more. She's merely trying to bide time, do not allow her to deceive you, Clarel." Erimond announces silkily as he shifts to face her, meeting her eyes as he begins to address her in a volume only they could hear.

_Can't have that..._

Laying my staff across both shoulders, "Erimond there filling your ears with big steamy piles of dung is he? Pretty sure he is..." I taunt with feigned nonchalance, draping my forearms over it like a scarecrow as I set my torso to swinging in an appearance of boredom.

 _What do I do? How do I get closer, how do I get to them?_ Experiencing such a sickening pound in my chest that focusing on anything else was difficult.

"What? By giving my services? Helping to fight the Blight?" Geez, if Erimond scoffed any harder he'd bust a blood vessel. "Offering a solution to keep the world safe from Darkspawn? Yes, who would want to hear that?" A hint of smugness colored his posturing and I cast a fleeting glance to Clarel, seeing that I was losing the tiny advantage I held as a regretful frown bloomed. "And yes, the ritual requires blood sacrifice. Hate me for that if you must, but do not-"

"WOW! Whew~ boy! Your ass must be so jealous from the incredible amount of shit that comes out of that mouth of yours. Seriously, I'm impressed you keep a straight face." Purposefully being obnoxious -anything to lessen the power of his rhetoric.

"It is not, Inquisitor." Interceding once again with that melodic accent. Conviction, resilience; they were infused in every word and radiated from every line in her body as she took a step closer to the balcony's edge. "We make the sacrifices no one else will. Our Warriors die proudly for a world that will never thank them. We are Wardens, and we will ensure the world has a future, even if it means the loss of our own."

_No! I can't lose here...I won't! I can't fail here. Please...if ever there was a God watching me...not yet. Please don't abandon me yet._

"You don't see a problem with this logic? At all?" I challenge glibly, practically on the verge of gritting my teeth but needing to stay unthreatening. There were too many to handle at once, and I could see how desperately they clung to these lies. Just one, I needed just one to break from the herd and question.

"And how would you save the world from a Blight without Wardens, Inquisitor? Talk it into submission?" Erimond mocks as he opens his arms wide and pivots to encompass each Warden present, putting me in a no-win situation and knowing it. He turns to face me, and a snide smirk of triumph curled his lip as he lowered his hands and studied my lax posture. "You know what I'm thinking right now, Inquisitor?"

 _Ugh, want to rip out his stupid pornstache so bad._ "The primal, ball-slapping sex your parents are probably having this very moment?" I answer drolly.

"More vulgarity," sighing heavily and sounding bored. "Seems that is all you are capable of, Inquisitor. What a pity you were chosen to lead, your people might have had the chance to accomplish something," he chides with a regretful shrug. "You know what must be done, Clarel." Erimond states with a dismissive wave in my direction, and yup, _now_ he'd gotten my goat. Boy was I going to savor kicking him in the nads.

I did my best to remain relaxed, but I couldn't help the irritated tick of my right eye as I fixed my focus on the Warden-Commander. "Clarel, I'm going to lay this out simply so that even a village oaf can understand. Either you believe the head of an order much like your own who has made it their mission to help Thedas," _Cough._ "or you blindly follow the words of a Tevinter Magister serving a Blighted mage calling himself Corypheus --the very creature Wardens have sworn to defeat!"

 _No more_. No more half-baked schemes or waffling. No more fearing repercussions. Either I was all in or not.

_No more..._

Her lips moved; visibly shocked, shaken, but naught was heard. Perhaps it was denial, or the stunned ramblings of a woman who had been set adrift that passed her lips, but I could guess as she slowly shook her head in horror. "No...no, that isn't possible, Corypheus is dead."

I watched without remorse as the pieces soaked in, as Clarel absorbed my allegations. Watched with baited breath as Erimond leaned in and spoke to her, knowing that if the unadulterated truth wasn't enough to sway her from this desperate course to save the world, then it was over regardless of anything else I tried to say. She was lost, and I could no longer afford to play the redeemer.

The turmoil, the indecision; it smoothes and an expression of resolution transforms her face as she looks ahead. The pent up breath that I held releases, thankful reason prevailed.

"Bring it through!" Akin to a wrenching punch magic cold as ice pricks my skin as it suddenly erupts. Instinctively a hand shields my face as intense light explodes from the center of the mist, piercing my eyes. Momentarily blinding as an unmistakable chill teased and a shrill rumble reaches my ears. And it was then that I knew fear.

I lurch forward, vision spotty but improving as I rapidly blink and set my sights on the duo. _No!! I won't let this go the way you want!_

"Seize the Inquisitor!"

I angle myself, grasping the staff with both hands and brace for a confrontation as uncertain Wardens listen to Erimond's command and reluctantly step forward to block my path. "You stupid fools. Move or I mow you down right along with them." I snarl. "I won't have mercy for anyone who chooses to submit to the Blight and willingly spreads it by following a monster. You never even question the coincidence of every Warden experiencing a calling, or the possibility of a creature capable of toying with your minds being alive. Goddamn pigheaded fools!" Cursing them aloud for all to hear.

I may as well have slapped them; eyes widened, mouths slackened, and those few that still retained their own minds appeared genuinely conflicted. They faltered, and turned back to their commander. Their unspoken appeal for guidance.

Then it was there, a frown returning to her brow, and in that moment I could have whooped in victory at the sight. I grinned and straightened, recognizing that I had just received what I needed most.

They had questioned.

And Erimond was realizing it too. Quickly he was becoming more animated than composed as an attempt to wheedle out of the accusations and convince Clarel of the rightness of her actions played out on the terrace above. When that slimy veneer of generous advisor completely wiped away, and instead a sneer took its place, I knew I had won. Even as he spun and arrogantly stepped to the balcony's edge, I smiled. I had done it. I had my opening. I had found a way.

"Perhaps I should have sought more reliable allies." Erimond _tisks_ in false rebuke. His shoulders hike in a hopeless gesture and a smug snicker abruptly surfaces when he looks to me, spurring a raised brow as I waited for what I assumed to be his sole trump card. "I was prepared for this, Inquisitor, this is nothing more than a small setback."

"Ho-ho, well, that confidence sure has gone up now hasn't it?" _Don't look to the sky. Don't look to the sky._ Straining my ears to catch even the vaguest hint of wings beneath the maelstrom of war and death, leaning against my weapon in deceptive casualness, utterly primed to bolt for cover at any second.

The grin widens cruelly, and ethereal tendrils the color of blood languidly begin to emerge, seductively curling from his staff. "Do you think that is all that has gone up, Inquisitor?"

 _Bleh._ Rearing with a colossal _nuh-uh_ shake. " _Whoa! Eww!_ I certainly hope so. Otherwise you've just made this beat-down very uncomfortable."

Oh yikes, guess you really could spot facial twitches from far away. "How clever." He snidely jeers. "Let's see how long that arrogance lasts!"

With a snarl crimson flares, and his staff strikes the stone in a hard rap. Rattled alarm instantly crossed many a countenance but I didn't look to them. Instead, my attention was now firmly in the heavens as an irrepressible terror gripped my heart.

~

"Wait."

"Heard that too?" Flicking his gaze to the figure poised beside him.

"Hear what? The evil screeching, or the slightly less evil screeching?" Hawke tiredly sighs as he rolls his neck and joins them.

"What is it?" Cassandra prompts, fully aware that the two caught far more than any of the rest of them were capable of.

"A last stand." He voices, his chin lowering with a tilt of his head to the side in quiet concentration.

"Sounds like there's Wardens gearing up for someth-" Varric's eyes widen in the same breath Solas' head snaps up and Varric begins to chuckle. " Aaand there she is." Before Cassandra can press him, Varric twists to look up at her with a grin. "You were worried about a missing Inquisitor, Seeker?"

Truly, she was sorely tempted to stab him in the book in that moment.


	94. Here Lies the Abyss

Okay, I'll admit, much worse than anticipated.

Never in my life have I skittered so fast to plaster myself against a wall as I did when that roar rent the air. I'd vastly overestimated bravery levels when coming face-to-face with zombie dragon again --still felt like I was about to have a cardiac arrest. If the Anchor didn't keel me over, the mad _ba thrump-ba thrump_  seizing my heart definitely would. Holy cow but it was _huge_.

Between the frantic scurrying to avoid the harsh heat that simultaneously sweltered and the needle-like jabs sent along my teeth from its proximity, I was muddled as fuck, and I don't even know when the hell the demons decided to join the party.

"Help the Inquisitor!"

 _The shit?!_ Popping out to lean from behind cover in time to witness Clarel take off in a wild dash. _Goddamn nutsack!_ Preparing to push from the protective shadow of scrapped timber and give chase, feeling the microscopic tug of hairs raising and jerking back just in time to avoid a lash of blistering electricity whip past.

A growl tore from my throat as I squeezed the weapon in my hands, ready to drive through the demonic resistance if I must as another leash of energy struck nearby. Fingers brutally clench; tense and incredibly on edge. Trying to deduce how staves functioned as I blindly bolted from shelter and spun to bodily slam into the neatly stacked mortar scant yards away.

Will magic to gather?

No, that was simply coating the staff in energy like I did with daggers, or enhancing a strike.

Use the power stone to focus?

What the blazes did that even mean?! Intently stare at the bloody thing and pretend it's part of my body? No, that sure as crap doesn't work.

 _"Fuck off!"_ Swinging like a golfer and ruthlessly putting a spider away with a hiss.

Nightmare was getting ballsy, I'll give him that. These little 'extra' buddies skittering from the rift were obviously his doing, and I was seriously growing more desperate enraged than afraid as the short seconds since Clarel raced away ticked painfully by. Both targets were rapidly getting away, out of reach, and here I was getting cornered.

Again I leaned, and again I was forced to hastily wrench myself back lest the body of a Warden collided with mine as it was brutally hurled.

_Damn, damn, DAMN!_

Cursing a world...the gods...myself.

Gradually those several men who acted as a buffer were waning against the combined power of demon and bound brethren, soon they would be overtaken and I would be alone. And the dragon...

Why had it stopped attacking? Wasn't I what it wanted, why had it landed and been looking away?

Sweat -whether from nerves or the burning heat, pooled within the confines of my gloves, and it was impossible to calm the tremors in my hands. I had to move, had to get going. What to do? What next? I had to get to them and kill-

_Wait..._

_no..._

_No, I didn't!_

**_Ah...there it is_ **

" _...ha...haha...hahaha...hahaha!"_

More and more the humor rose. Growing until it was an unhinged laughter that rang alongside the song of struggle caging the courtyard. Sounding demented even to my own ears as I pressed the staff to my forehead.

 _An idiot...such an idiot..._ Trying to cease the bubbling mirth with mounting difficulty.

Why did I need to give chase, to hunt them down and kill them? The simple truth was...I didn't.

They would do the work for me.

Why had the Inquisitor been driven to travel to the Fade?

Because they had _followed._

Erimond ran and Clarel had understandably given chase, compelling the Inquisitor to pursue the duo. The companions had had no choice _but_ to follow, otherwise their leader would be left without a guard. How had I not put two-and-two together when I jumped down into the middle of this shit show? I did not need to do a bloomin' thing. No one was with me. No one was here to mindlessly trail after their runaway Herald.

_There was no one to save._

A proverbial wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. Messier and certainly not as clean as originally intended, yes, but it still accomplished the same goal.

" _Hahaha! Yeah, buddy!"_ Spinning from cover with a whoop, and nearly straight into an energy whip to the face.

I duck, narrowly dodging by a hairsbreadth and rolling to the right as the crack of electricity popped dangerously past, however even that close encounter hadn't been enough to wipe the loony smile from my mouth.

I had this as I pushed off into a trot and began circling Pride and bespelled Wardens. I knew I did. Four possessed mages -divided between enlarging the rift and engaging, and Pride. Not impossible by any means. "Focus on the Pride demon! Keep him occupied!" Hopping over another 'spiderling' as I attempted to circle and move to a better position.

Shut the rift, worry about the mages after. Destroy the rift, and I destroy the demons and any chances of meeting Nightmare. No Fade, no Nightmare; easy as that.

I contort and awkwardly bend, frantically avoiding magic aimed at my stomach before a burly bear of a Warden punts one of the small Fears into the willowy male and draws the attention onto himself instead, freeing the way of one less obstacle.

_Take the rift, let Clarel take Erimond. T-_

Earsplitting and terrifying a roar erupts overhead. Barely did I start to reflexively hunch backwards and snap my eyes in the sound's direction when heavy pressure and wind buffets my body as immense wings suddenly furiously begin to beat.

 _Tche, the dragon!_ More than a tad petrified as that colossal body took flight in a blink. _Catch it first instead? Escape and ignore it for later? Bitch was needed eventu-_

He rose with a frightening speed and while my heart did a frenzied dance, he unexpectedly veered away. Flying westward in an extremely baffling twist as I watched in stumped confusion. _Wh-I'm the Inquisitor, where's he going?_

**_Did you think you saved them, that anything you did would save them?_ **

Eyes fell, widening in horror at what they witnessed.

 _No...no!_ Screaming my denial as laughter jeeringly mocked, rejecting that this was to be the inevitable finale.

"HAWKE!!" Shouting in desperation to figures already vanishing, uncaring of the remaining danger yet here as I blindly made to step forward.

**_I really must thank you,_ ** _Inquisitor **, I had wondered how you found me**_

I had failed them, had arrogantly given Nightmare everything he needed. My fault. My fault, my fault. It was all my fault. What I had done in my ignorance had doomed them both. _"ARRAHH!!"_ Fisting my hair as the scream ripped from my lips. _"Nightmare!!"_ Feeling the darkness; the dreg of rage writhing and descending.

A tug, the minuscule pull of hairs as magic sparks and sizzles, and I do nothing to hinder the snarl that erupts from its emergence. Past fear, past pain, past caring for the threat to self. Clasping the weapon in my grasp with both hands, stepping into a slide to meet the lash of electricity head on. _"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!"_ Past the sorrow of futures never to be as energy forcefully converges in a rush. Tumultuously sucking through body and staff as if drawn by a straw to collect violently at the stone at its tip, discharging in a howling tempest as hips twist and the shattering of stone and splintering of wood cracks in its wake.

Violence, spite; they rampaged in a maelstrom of power that carved heaven and earth. Cleaving through demon and mortar, razing the wall at its back as the eerie light of the Fade swelled and the rift was torn anew in answer. Expanded by my own hand.

Amidst the roaring whoosh of the rift, immersed in magic, legs stumble forward as fingers numbly slacken, releasing the remnants of the destroyed weapon I yet held. Lurching unseeing for stairs and battlements that had been my last glimpse of foe and allies. Shoving past the forms in my way as feet quicken and the world around me blurs, Fade Stepping with a helplessness born of despair I had only experienced once before.

**_Struggling? At this stage? None of it matters, none of anything you do matters. They are going to die_ **

_No!!_

**_They are_ ** _all **going to die**_

_NO!!_

Siphoning more from the Fade, uncompromising in channeling magic into a seemingly endless spell. Phasing until the stone beneath my heel was a whirl and the structures at my sides were a haze. Seeing nothing of the objects or figures in my path but the point ahead. Unwilling to falter or bow regardless of the whispering brush of seeking grasps, or the disjointed chime of the possibly familiar. 

_You **set this in motion.** You **provided my freedom.** You_ **_signed their death. Is your interference now_** _really **going to make a difference?**_

_Shut. Up!_

Toes catch and I trip, crashing forward hard with a roll and grating slide of my shoulder on unforgiving brick. Hands and knees quake as I force weary limbs to turn and laboriously crawl for the breezeway's barrier. Clawing and stubbornly dragging myself up to heavily drape against the stony support amidst a swimming view while I desperately tried to breathe. Feeling the overwhelming urge to vomit as I panted through the suffocating pound seizing me. Unable to suppress the cough and subsequent heaves as my stomach attempted to void itself of food that simply wasn't there.

Mana burn -or yet more likely, another sundering of the soul. My repercussion, my punishment.

**_Pity the one time you tried to save others, you perform so poorly. Perhaps I will ride the bodies of some of your friends -the mage perhaps_ **

Filling my ears with that taunting, rumbling chuckle. _"f-..uck...o-..ff..."_ Wheezing through the tears, making an effort to stem the coughing gags as I helplessly stood slumped over the railing.

In that moment what was it that caused me to look out, to lift my eyes from the yawning vastness of the canyon below and stare at overhanging battlements near enough to touch? What had drawn me to witness what I had striven so fiercely to circumvent? There on ramparts partially lost by the inevitable erosion of time stood the evidence of my mistakes, passionately closing in on the object of their fury as four strongly strode to be the shadow at their back. My living nightmare as those dearest to me walked unknowingly to their death.

Alistair, Cassandra, Solas, Hawke; souls who didn't deserve to have all they had endured only amount to this, to die from another's incompetence.

**_Ah...are you sure you're up to it, 'Lavellan'?_ **

_"can...it."_ Growling, gritting my teeth. _I could still stop it, I_ will _stop it!_ Having to believe it, that there was still a chance as I shove from the barrier and force Fade Step once more. If not, they would be plummeting to their death. Nightmare cared not an iota, why should he, when he would get what he wanted regardless of the outcome.

I felt it as I rounded a last corner, the shudder of mortar beneath my feet, and then it was there, a scene I had been on the receiving end of countless times before. Clarel downed yet somehow alive, and there...four pairs of shocked eyes meeting mine as I stumbled and staggered from between arches, until even that was gone. Unceremoniously hidden as the colossal body of Corypheus' dragon suddenly vaulted from the battlement's turret and landed with the intent to prowl after prey, utterly blocking the sight of comrades and the remaining wall beyond.

I did it without thought --without thinking.

Shrill and pained a roar reverberates as the monstrous body jerks and massive skull swivels to the insect brutally latched to its hindquarters. Roaring its wrath as it pulled against the energy mercilessly burrowing deeper into scales that kept it from moving further.

More 'hooks' pitilessly materialize, sinking where they could, leashing the beast as the heat from a tickling warmth trickled over my lips. Demanding, callously reaching for _more_ as a burning pulse began to build. Beating, thrumming; searing in an increasingly powerful cadence.

Soles dig in, fighting to stay firmly planted as they start to slide over the stone. Struggling to hold against the enormous body and its strength as it haltingly inches forward, doing little more than playing annoying fly and briefly hampering him. Unable to completely stop the gradual creep as it continues to advance.

**_Tsk...my, my...how those colors are showing..._ **

_Damn it!!_ Snarling, doggedly digging in, fisting those chains all the harder.

Despite conscious intent, despite resolute desires otherwise, I... was flagging. The energy, the magic; it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. More, more, much, much more was needed. It was there, I could take it -bend it to my will, but I...and yet...

A part of self-preservation yet lingered, still wanting to live, to have a future. Showing me with the harsh starkness of action the hollow platitude those vows of pompously doing anything truly were.

 _I...want to live..._ Face crumbling, an anguished hiccup escaping as I slowly let magic drain away.

And the choice...the choice showed me the fruits of that decision seconds later.

A staggering potency flared, fiercely ripping the creature and its chains from my grasp, thrusting me to hand and knees from the harsh yank. Dust, showering debris...an animalistic shriek of pain... the grating frantic, scrapes of talons clawing stone...all in an instant...but how much did I truly see knelt in the horrified stupor of what I'd done. Mortar was cracking, breaking apart, collapsing in a surging flood...they were desperately running, sprinting from the hastening destruction...

_n..no...So-_

Gaits stumbling, floundering as stone gave way faster than they fled.

_"NO!!"_

The painful sight I saw last as faces vanished, plunging into the darkness of the abyss below...too late...much too late...

An abyss I willingly plunged into a moment after.                 


	95. Chapter 95

Dark, dreamless gloom in a kingdom of nihility... but there was... something. Something that prodded the edges of the murk...nudging the boundary...

_Cold, cutting. Air a sharp whir rushing past._

_"Fuck! Hold on!"_

_"Grab hold!"_

Like a clog; sensations, noise, strained through the fog. Disconcerting and horribly alarming as an unidentifiable visceral _knowing_ of wrongness plucked at the strings of consciousness. Urging a need to rouse, to move.

And yet...leaden, it all felt so terribly leaden...

Hardness, a roughness that pressed and dug in. The first that penetrated the shroud before awareness gradually began to creep in. Sluggishly peeling back the blanket as I struggled against a black oblivion that desired to linger. Sensations, smells; they began to bombard swiftly then. Assailing with an unbearably oppressive pressure that seemed to prick every cell, wringing a whimper that sounded an eternity away. Fingers jerk in lethargic response, a faint twitch of life as cumbersome eyelids fought to open and I shoved once more against the darkness, at last succeeding in wresting free from the imprisoning limbo.

_Tumbling, hurling in a wild plummet through shadows. His hand reaching in desperation._

_"Get her!"_

_"Don't let go!"_

_"No! Get her!"_

_"Everyone brace!"_

_A resplendent nova...shot through the twilight..._

_"Da'elgara!!"_

Magic...cool, and yet concurrently wielding a comforting warmth...brushed in a tingling kiss as silhouettes swam and shadows danced. Forms; structures, of a forlorn homage to a dying antiquity slow to focus and settle as eyes owlishly blink. Seeing stone of crumbling ruin, of towers of rubble and mortar; suspended in immutable decay as crystalline cascades of emerald flowed. Perpetually arrested in a silent timelessness within a realm of shade and sage as whispers of loss sang with every woeful clack of stone in the vast remoteness.

_...what...have I done?_

Desolation, loneliness....it was the Fade. And this... this was Adamant?

 _What have I done._ Raking the dirt with a clenched fist as eyes shut against the ravaged hiccup. Resolutely swallowing down the despair as the reality of what I'd selfishly done; of what I'd instinctively chosen, became too much of a shameful slap to repress.

 _"RAHH!!"_ Helplessly screaming in fury, tightly curling in a bid for solace, and finding none. Striking out in a blind haze as the anguish built and ending on hand and knee. Feeling the sting of pain briefly filter through the rage and callously punching down again, repeating the act. Battering the dirt and stone beneath my hands without thought until the breathes were ragged sobs and the knuckles scraping within my gloves were a slippery slide. Screaming, pouring all the vestiges of rage that lingered into that solitary cry, wishing for any other pain but this.

 _I killed them_. Seeing nothing through the watery curtain consuming my vision as arms trembled and devastated hiccups rocked small shoulders. Remaining bowed in the dirt without a care for the world around me, or its demands. _I have killed them._

Clawing the earth, gritting my teeth to quiet the tears, feeling the boiling pulse that strained against the confines of the flesh effortlessly overshadow the raw burn within my gloves. Experiencing it all irrepressibly mount once more.

_"Grab hold!"_

_"Get her!"_

_"Everyone brace!"_

_"Da'elgara!"_

Snapping my head up with a hiccuped gasp. _"Guys?!_ Guys!" They were here, they'd made it, we'd all made it. Larry...Larry had come and he was all right. He had been all right after all...he was wasn't he? "Everyone!!" Stumbling to my feet. Shouting in a pitch born of desperation, fugitively casting over barren pathways lain within a realm of eternal twilight. Knowing somewhere deep down that it was futile as I took halting steps forward. "Everyone! Guys!! Hawke!" Swallowing against the ache as I staggered for lonely stairs, "Alistair, Cassandra??!" and an overwhelming sense of suffocating isolation began to grow, "....Solas!!" Cruelly clutching my forearm as a thrum pounded and my breath hitched. "S-Solas!....Solas... _I need you...please, don't leave...please, don't leave me."_ Fighting the warmth trickling down my cheeks as I tripped and stood alone within a land of dreams.

"I'm here. I would not leave you, Akira _._ "

I turned at the melodic timbre, "Solas...Solas..." almost letting legs collapse as an adored visage stalks from a nearby path, incapable of suppressing the remorse at the sight as feet lurch to race into the welcome embrace. "I'm sorry, it's my fault we're here. I'm sorry. I'll do better, please don't give up on me..." Burying into those loving arms, clutching soft robes so desperately it brought shooting pain but not caring in the least. "don't leave me Solas, please, don't leave..."   

Fingers, loving and tender brush over my hair, my ears. Petting and soothing as they sought to comfort and offer safety. "Shh...it's all right. Why would I leave..." Warm, large, gently skimming my skin. Caressing to reach my throat and tenderly resting it there, wordlessly urging me to raise my chin from his chest. "...when you serve such a useful purpose, _vhenan._ " Coldly squeezing.

"s-so-la-s..." Stunned, grasping the strong forearm, trying to loosen the hold as calculating greys devoid of emotion shimmer.

"Consider honestly, _my heart,_ " Nearly invoking the endearment as a frigid slur, "why I would choose to remain with the Inquisition. It is a means to stop Corypheus, but it not the only means. It was the reason I joined. Not the reason I stayed."

"sol--..d-on-d-o-th--iss..." Losing the strength to remain standing, feeling heat suffuse my face as lungs fruitlessly struggled to draw air and wisps of power began to emerge, as if being lured by an undeniable call from those unearthly eyes. Knowing the encroaching darkness would prove fatal, yet unable to bring myself to harm him as we slunk to the ground.

"It was inevitable, I did warn you." Solas solemnly confesses.              

 _Solas, don't do this...I would do anything for you..._ refusing to shed the tears that threatened to spill as my power, _my soul_ , drifted. Misting in a gossamer veil, languidly stroking as though it knew to whom it was going as the light was gradually devoured.

"The boundless power you possess, did you believe I would not notice?" Seeming to read the thoughts, and tilting his head in composed contemplation. "You hold the key to my people's salvation. Indulging your interest was a calculated risk." He admits. Dispassionate, aloof; no longer my Solas. Recognizing it as surely as the fingers stealing the remnants of my short life. Allowing the tears to quietly fall as the last of my will to fight shattered. "What is the old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf take you?" Solas somberly intones. Breaking me anew, hearing the echoes of a dying memory.

_'What is the old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf take you...'_

_'....and so he did.'_

Nails dig in, biting into silken fabric and the hard muscle beneath in an unrivaled fury as a snarl twisted my lips. My right palm shoots to grip the shocked face looming inches above my own, and ruthlessly releases a torrent of energy. Carnage, blood-curdling screams --something that was wholly expected, and yet instead...

I blink, standing alone as I had been moments before. The suffocating pressure and burn, the jabbing grind of pebbles against my back, the sickening drain of the thing that made me, _me_ , being leeched away...gone. Vanished as if they had never been.

Trembling fingers rise, tentatively touching the sensitive column of my throat before a vicious growl rumbles from my chest. " _Nightmare!! You fucking little shit-stain!!"_ Hands falling to fist at my sides as I spun in place, scanning every walkway, every ridge. _"Come out here! Come out here, you piece of garbage! Face me!!"_ Noticing tiny details that were previously overlooked or perhaps purposely covered by Nightmare's illusion. Rifts, relatively nearby and substantial in size, suspended high in the heaven's while another eerily whirled, illuminating the horizon in the distance with deeper saturated hues. _"You wanted me, I'm here! Come on, you coward! Come on! Get out here!!"_ Breathing so hard I visibly shook.

How dare he, how dare _he._ I'll destroy him for this. _Nightmare! I'll rip you apart so violently there won't be enough left to regenerate!! Nightmare!!_

**_My, my...is that any way to treat a gift? And here I thought you would be pleased_ **

_"Gift?! How dare you, you worthless cockroach! You tried to use him! I'm fucking coming for you, and I'm going to fucking rip you apart!"_  I hiss.

**_hehe...are you sure,_ ** _Inquisitor **? Was that** really **a failed ploy, or was it merely a warning of the future? How disappointing that his loyalty will never run as deep...**_

A laugh, disenchanted and bitter bubbles up, and I can't help the reflexive shield of my eyes as it temporarily fills the lonely silence. _"You're barking up the wrong tree. Think I don't clearly know that --painfully? You're going to have to do better, Shoe Fodder."_ _Tsking_ with a snorted shake as I pivot to resolutely march for the luminous glow in the distance.

They were here --somewhere. I remembered the desperate leap, the haphazard wrench to sunder the Veil fast enough, the hastening plummet... They were here, and Larry was oddly with them. It had been him that swooped to catch everyone, however...then what? I couldn't recall, I'd fainted during the fall and now it was all a blank.

Sore or no, bone-weary or no, we'd somehow been separated and I needed to find them while simultaneously dealing with Nightmare. The Anchor protected them on entry but would it last? Did it have a time-limit, a range-limit? Did they need the Anchor to physically loiter here?  I couldn't even begin to hazard a guess, and the legitimate owner of the stupid thing wasn't exactly on hand to pester and interrogate.

**_Perhaps it is too late. You_ ** _have **been here for so long already...**_

_Shut it, turd monkey. If I want to listen to an asshole, I'll fart._

**_You couldn't even save your friends. How could you expect to make it back?_ **

Gritting my teeth, refusing to give it anything as I trudged up a steep rocky incline.

**_You're a failure, and they are going to die knowing it_ **

"Fuck. Off. Now." Tugging my fist from the hole I punched in the stone face.

**_hehehe..._ **

The mocking rumble dogged my steps, taunting me though Nightmare had grown silent for the moment. Understanding without needing to be told that he was allowing the jabs to take root and fester. Lips pinch, my expression taking on a hard edge as boots stomped with greater force than was necessary, not about to let Nightmare have his way so easily. Choosing to fixate on the anger that seethed and smoldered, on the pain that beat and surged, to be my shield and my weapon. I'd promised Adamant wasn't to be my end, I'd be damned if I broke it now for the likes of a little playful mind-fucking.

Nightmare had slipped, he had made a mistake. 'They _are_ going to die'. Are: present tense. They were still alive and Nightmare had just inadvertently let me know it. So long as there was a live body to bring back; I hadn't failed, there was hope. That spindly douche had firmly, and sharply, put things into petrifying perspective.

What was I willing to lose?

And what was I willing to bear by abiding by that decision?

My life and my comrades were not up for debate, there was no victory for the dead. And my hand... where that was a very solid, 'oh, hell nah', I was terrified I might not get a vote on that front. I sensed there was a change, that something wasn't right, that it was devouring more than a hand or a forearm, but I couldn't afford to pluck at that thread. If I did, Nightmare would have all the fear he could desire as I crumbled to the ground and chose to wither away within the Fade. He'd win by simply being there.

Bicep? The shoulder perhaps? How far had it spread? I felt it radiating in a scorching lance with a heart of its own. Thrumming a harrowing beat that strained against the flesh that wrongfully caged it. However I wasn't about to activate it simply to answer it one way or the other. Though if I was going to shut the door behind us when we escaped, I wouldn't have any other alternative. Right now, the best I could manage was a prayer and steadfast faith in an elf who had the bothersome habit of placing the happiness of others above his own.

 _It won't be wasted._ Believing it down to the lowest pit of my being. A smile pulling at the corners of my mouth as I crest a hill and pause to get my bearings.

**_Pity it's not returned_ **

Wiping the smile entirely.

**_How_ ** _is **the Dread Wolf faring? Ah, yes, that is a secret. For a moment I thought he trusted you**_

_Goddamn prick!_ Fiercely denying the keen ache that truth brings. "See this, see this fist?! It's goin' straight up yo spidery-ass!" Thrusting the Anchor in the direction I assumed Nightmare waited, confident he would 'see' the gesture regardless.

**_Akira, Akira, Akira...If you come for me, it will take your life_ **

Snorting, "think that's going to scare me?" Boldly moving to skid and slide ungainly down the slope to the sizeable bowl-shaped gully below. "You're beating a dead horse on that one, Dildo Baggins, try again." Touching down with a splash and scrunching my nose at the prospect of soggy feet for the foreseeable future as I begin to plod forward, treading water.

 ** _Ah...I think not..._** The smug smirk imbedded in that remark so aggravatingly grating.

Mumbling a, _"yeah, whatever."_ under my breath as I walked.

Really, this bullshit has been hanging over me like a bad Halloween decoration since I woke up in Haven. I've learned how to compartmentalize this malarkey like a bloody champ. If Nightmare wanted me to teeter like a domino and dissolve into a blubbering mass he'd need to do better and up his game. The Anchor was super annoying, a menace, an obnoxious curse, and creepy as balls when you sit down and think about it; but I've learned to ignore it for the most part. It was a wonderful system that had worked out stupendous so far.

**_hehe..._ **

_Thiiis_ close to rolling my eyes. _God, he just does not have an 'off' button..._

**_Funny, considering it was_ ** _you **who chose to bear the mark**_

_Wha-_ dousing me in ice, freezing me in place.

**_It must be dreadfully tiring...blaming others. Lamenting a fate forced upon you, when its act is_ ** _your **doing** \-- **was** always **your doing. You think anger and pain will make your mind stronger. That you can escape the fear that slithers inside your heart. What fool filled your mind with such drivel?**_

"You're lying!" Unable to halt the immediate, venomous snarl. _I never would have asked for this!_

A disingenuous, tisked sigh echoes, almost as though it breathed against my ear, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. **_For what purpose?_** _I **have everything. You made certain of that,** Inquisitor_

"I don't believe you!" Recoiling from the lies, yelling into a starless night. "I would remember! I would remember it all!"

**_Some misguided little girl comes to my domain and accuses of falsehoods after I kindly lifted the terror from her shoulders. I'm hurt_ **

"If that's true, give it back! Give it all back!! You hear me?! Give them back!!" The good, the bad --I wanted it all. The scaring reminder, the inspiring memento; they were the same. They were the pieces that made me whole, made me everything that I was. Every joyous fragment, every haunting scrap; I wanted every last one.

**_You should thank me-_ **

_"GIVE THEM ALL BACK!!"_

- ** _But you are a guest here in my home, and what host would I be if I denied such a heartfelt request... So by all means, let me return what you have so readily forgotten_**

Lightning, searing and precise, speared in a thrust of sudden excruciating pain through my mind. Striking without warning and sending me crashing to my knees with a bowed shriek. Oblivious of the water soaking through as I hunched in bent agony with my skull tightly clutched within my hands. Utterly unprepared, disoriented, panicked. Instinctively combating the abrupt assault on my psyche.

Flashes, stills. Fading pictures already flittering and slipping away as quick as they came...memories that had always been and were only fleetingly  kindled before dimming once more.

A frigid, stale chamber infused with quiet, the throbbing ache and grating sting a groggy consciousness heralds...sour, confused awareness. The irritable innocence, the grumbling as fingers tugged and knotted...steps suddenly wavering within a bleak hallway... _no...this way..._ comforting, safe. Familiar...unequivocally trusted. Not fighting or questioning the sensation, the _presence_ , suddenly there. Seemingly lingering at the edges of my mind...turning me around, carrying me forward, directing me. A dream, a simple dream as any other...cries, the building pound of my heart in answer...legs boldly marching despite the sudden reluctance now roosting...beginning to doubt the _thing_ and its motives. Starting to vaguely battle its pull...the sizzling crackle that kissed alongside the chill of winter as the door was pompously thrown wide... _Wait! I know this! No, no, I won't do this! Dream or no, it's shit!_ Rearing in abject denial within the corner of my mind, yet helpless to be anything than a bystander within my own body as an unknown gibberish snarkily spilled from my mouth. Powerless to hinder and halt the runaway disaster train, vehemently cursing a blue-streak as limbs awkward shuffle and hop, scooping up its prize a split-millisecond before the pleased presence leaks out. The inferno...melting, piercing...burning through...mounting...pulsing...

Freed, I was freed...but I-I can't! I can't! The Light!

Uncertain whether the tormented scream that echoed within the night was mere memory as I fell. Sinking farther down, down into the horrors of memories once stolen. Shades. Shadows.

Terrors.

I remembered the claws that grasped, the nails that gouged. The formless things that creep and crawl in the peripheral, yet never seem to be there once eyes turn. The monsters beneath the bed, the demons within the closet, the specters within the dream...I witnessed them all.

I remembered.

Those ghoulish beings that swarmed, those hellish corpses that shambled. Those mutilated limbs that reached...I remembered it all. Scratching, trying to tow me under, keep me trapped within the dark. The faceless shades that writhed in a misshapen mass, the unspoken fears that made manifest  -I recalled every one that hunted me that day.

_I remember._

_~_

Gentle ripples upon the water's surface, a muted rumble over the hushed stillness of the Fade...

Seated within a crystalline pool on my heels, slumped in an unseeing stupor with upturned hands upon my lap; what was it that broke through? Lost, numb, as bits of a past I should never have experienced replayed over and over; what was it that caused fingers to stir and eyes to focus?

Disorienting though it was, I became aware in an instant. Simply snapped back into reality or ripped from nothingness by a triggered intrinsic alarm _._ For how long I had remain thus, seated within that entrenched fog, was a question in which I had no answer.

Emotions, images, flashes, and then...there had been _a something;_ and now I found myself here. Unceremoniously roused or dragged from the prison of my memories to return to the toils and misfortunes of the present.

I lift my chin with a blink, peering out over tranquil waters. Stone of rubble and ruin, islands of rock and mortar; it was as it had been before. Solitary, quiet. A realm of dreams and imagination, halted in suspended decay. I look down at the hands resting on my lap, unsure of what had brought me back but not desiring to remain sitting in frigid water any longer as I woodenly stood. The entirety of my lower half soaked, it was more arduous than I anticipated as exhausted muscles and bruises fought the movement.

_my doing...my doing..._

_but...it wasn't_

Lurching forward, splashing. Unmindful of the noise shattering an otherwise soothing hum of magic and soft clack of rock.

_...but it was_

The legs that had lunged, the hands that had reached... _mine_. Against contrary wishes or no, those were mine and mine alone. The sensation, the presence, the... _thing_ ; had orchestrated my actions but that did not change the truth: I had done it. I could have struggled harder, doubted its sudden existence and purpose --not merely accepted its entrance and puppeteer urging with nothing save an indifferent shrug.

Familiar, normal - _known_ ; I hadn't questioned, and that was perhaps the most mystifying and frightening aspect of all.

As a result the Breach's visions had proven genuine, and now, even perceptions previously thought infallible were in danger. _I_ had been there, _I_ had participated in the Conclave's destruction. Though it had not purposefully been by my own doing, it proposed a petrifying scenario.

What more became reality, what else could not be changed?

Naked, smarting something fierce, rousing within a dreary chamber; they were real as surely as the blood within my veins. Not the byproduct of an illusion or false recognition implanted by Nightmare or some other vexing entity. There was an inkling of colors -of thoughts, at the edges of my mind. Like waking from a dream and knowing what had taken place, yet illogically unable to actually summon it. They were my bridge between the gap, and yet I couldn't even access them. Were they my answer? Or simply the inconsequential hindrance?

_I don't know..._

_I don't know!_

Clenching my teeth as the uncertainty threatened to strangle all else.


	96. Chapter 96

_"stah. dow-n...ha-...ha-...fa -uck...holyshit..ha-...ha-...."_ Seriously feeling like I was dying as I hunched and held my knees, wheezing like some ninety-year old chain smoker who had ran their first relay.

The demon I'd been bashing seconds before was finally dissolving and becoming a part of the Fade, or returning to the cycle of life to begin anew --or whatever it was that Spirits did when they croaked, _and thank fuck for that_. Gods, if I had to raise my arms one more time, they were going to fall off.

Nightmare -that giant dingleberry- was either wise enough to realize another illusion wouldn't work so great the second time a-round, or was saving it for a particularly shitty moment. He seemed to be settling on sending his minions after me. The first had been an _actual goddamn_ spider, lurking inside a crevice within one of the boulder formations, waiting for me to pass on my way out of the gully. True to heroic fashion; I gallantly freaked the fuck out. Startled the ever-living crap out of me and boy did I deal with it posthaste.

By blasting the _entirety_ of the twenty-foot rock formation to kingdom come.                         

Yeah, didn't go so swell.

Dry heaving would have been the least of my problems, but...nope. Keeled over like a myotonic goat and promptly almost drowned in four inches of water. A grand end to the grand hero. Truly the stuff for which legends are made.

I couldn't use magic; I recognized that very clearly as I flopped there. Or more accurately, _I shouldn't_. It wasn't a molten rod being skewered through my arm anymore, it was a molten rod being _stabbed_ repeatedly through it. Magic flowed too abundantly here -came too easily, and the Anchor was responding to it. I hadn't meant to do it; I hadn't meant to summon so much. It was a gut reaction. It was only supposed to have been a drop from the bucket, not a whole bloomin' bucket.

The way that small bit of magic had siphoned to the Anchor, how it had changed --its 'flavor' so much like the mark it was unmistakable; I had perceived it in an instant. Sensing the alteration a hairsbreadth before I'd stiffly toppled and a deafening explosion boomed through the bowl.

No magic; it was too dangerous while I was alone. I wasn't a total nincompoop. One occurrence was more than enough to understand that simple fact keenly. Any energy summoned here was sure to be _far_ more than necessary, and apparently not all of it was going to make it to its intended spell regardless. Weaponless, magicless for all intents and purposes --what was left to me to defend myself?

Rocks!

Good ole can't-take-one-step-here-without-stubbing-a-toe-on-one, multifunctional rocks!

Hence the reason I am currently going full caveman on some demon asses.

Balls, it was tiring though. Who knew clubbing shit required engaging so much of your core? Those creepy meat bags were _not_ as easy to clobber as they appeared. Wrinkles or ominous translucence; it didn't seem to matter, their skin may as well be metal with how many times I was hitting it.

Not everything was so abysmally dismal though.

The terrain had substantially improved, and traversing Nightmare's domain wasn't such a herculean course of obstacles anymore. More walkways and paths now, instead of the sheer cliffs and craggy ravines I'd been forced to deal with for the past.. hour? hours? --so there was that at least.

 _"rngh...getting too old for this..."_ Expelling a last, and straightening with a tired grunt. Casting a cursory eye nearby for what would be my seventh replacement stone as yet another had cracked apart after this latest run-in. It had lasted until demon bits began wafting before breaking completely, so that had been fantastic. Should look around for more of those purplish-red ones...they seem to be a little more hardy...

Muffled noise -rustling, the soft crunch of rock shifting underfoot- reaches my ear. Sounding from behind and slightly to my left. I squat without a second thought, blindly sweeping a hand over the ground for a makeshift weapon as I twist to survey the direction I was sure the noise originated from. Bumping into a palm-sized jagged rock and quickly palming it a moment before my mouth drops open and eyes widen with ecstatic incredulity at what rounded the curved path.

"Alistair!" Laughing joyfully as I swiftly made to stand and trot to the man who looked up at my gleeful whoop and smiled.

"Inquisitor!" Shifting his sword to his left with a toothy beam and extending his hand in relieved welcome as I neared. "Thought we lost you for a moment. Guess being Andraste's Herald has its perks." Alistair jokes with a clasp of my forearm in heartfelt camaraderie before releasing it.

Tipping my head, "Uhh...wouldn't go that far." I snort humorously before becoming serious. "Where's everyone else? I thought my friend scooped you up." Leaning to glance behind him as worry began to wrinkle my brow and returning my gaze to his anxiously. "Did something happen? Is Larry all right --he's a good spirit, he's on our side. Didn't Solas tell you that? Wait, what about Solas? Hawke? Cassandra? Why are you wandering around alone? Alistair?" Starting to ramble as thoughts and questions continued to race through my mind. Picturing countless horrible scenarios to account for Alistair's presence alone.

"Whoa, easy." Raising a hand placatingly in an attempt to halt the rapid-fire interrogation. "We split up to cover more ground so we could search for you. We're backtracking and checking in every hour, since y-"

"What?! You goddamn serious right now?! That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard! We're in the Fade for fuck's sake --it's impossible to even measure time here!! Alistair...! _Rrargh!!"_ Desiring to shake the ever-loving crap out of him and almost giving in to the impulse. Who came up with this bright idea?! Surely not Solas or Larry.  Why didn't they smack it down for the terrible idea that it was, or simply get a bead on me? They should both be more than capable of doing it! Rrrargh!! This. Day! I swear, there was only room for one simpleton in this Inquisition --and that's me!

"That it?" Arching a sandy brow calmly at the tirade. "Sorry our plan wasn't up to your standards, but it was the best we got under the circumstance." Alistair remarks with thinly veiled mild sarcasm. "Demons and being dropped into a land of weird will do that. There wasn't much else we could do, whatever is in control of this region isn't letting us get a read on anything and we needed to find you."

Geez, when put like that, way to make me a giant dick. "oh...sorry." I mumble while barely managing to keep myself from shuffling my feet sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it, I've heard worse from Morrigan." Alistair chuckles good-naturedly as a prick of emotion fleetingly stung my chest. "As you've been found, it means we can see about getting out of here now." He continues with a turn, wordlessly directing us to tread the windy walkway he'd just come from together. "That was the Mark's doing wasn't it --it opened a rift and we fell through. Seems we only need to open one again and we'll be home by breakfast." Appearing reassured and boyishly grinning.

I turned my face from his lighthearted expression, finding it hard to watch and knowing I would soon be the cause of its disappearance. "I...can't." My jaw working as I finally manage to get it out. Angry that the strives, the schemes -everything had been worthlessly reduced to this.

"Huh? I don't understand...if you can create a rift, then..." Baffled, sounding confused, and yet I remained mute and refused to offer anything more. "Inquisitor?"

"I just...can't. I'm sorry, Alistair." Fisting the rock in my palm as though it were a life-line, unable to bring myself to meet his eyes and witness the condemnation that must certainly rightly lurk there.

"Why are you apologizing? I don't understand. Inquisitor --Akira, talk to me." Gently grasping my arm to stop me as again that feeling briefly stings. "Please." Alistair presses.

"I..." Sighing, and then trying again as I cant my head to face him fully, "it's not that simple --not right now anyway. I've done it before, but something's off this time." _A lot_ was off this time. "I know where you're going, and I already thought of that plan --believe me. The Anchor's acting up," flapping it dully for emphasis, "and when I did a little recon earlier poking the Veil, it wasn't exactly amenable either." I bitterly confess. Gods, but did I loathe this sense of being powerless as a cage was slowly set and I was the rat being gradually cornered. If one thing was different --if just one thing wasn't going to hell, then I could change all of this. I could open a rift and send all of us home. I could easily end it all and save them both. Instead I was stuck riding the waves and waiting to see what shore we were inevitably marooned on.

"hm...I'd wager 'off', probably has something to do with the demon that controls this place." He mulls thoughtfully.

"Nightmare."

"Nightmare." Alistair amends. "Well...then we work around it. Between three mages, there ought to be something that can be done. Won't know until we try in any case."

"I don't think it's something that can be fixed with numbers -regardless of who's among those numbers." I wearily say with a resigned shrug.

"That means...?" Looking down curiously.

"It means something's going boom despite the minds." I grumble sourly.

"Uhm..."

Expelling a breath, I elaborate, "the Mark's a volatile wildcard, and the Veil's not exactly acting like a lusty maiden waiting to be deflowered. Something's going boom if I attempt to rip open a rift, and even Solas probably isn't able to do anything to counteract that." And that was possibly the one aspect of this whole shit-storm that rankled the most. It was his power -- _his_ magic, and we were stranded inside a realm he spent more time in than out of by a barrier _he'd_ personally created! It should be a cakewalk to solve the logistics on how to bypass these 'insignificant issues', and yet, if I was a gambling woman, I would hazard a bet he wasn't in a strong enough condition to do more than mitigate the surefire blowback that was doubtlessly going to erupt. Whether my hunch Nightmare had reinforced the Veil in his domain or it was all a sophisticated psychological ruse by him, it did not alter the fact it would be like taking a rocket launcher to a paper house --the expended energy would be massive and the ensuing rupture would be considerable. Solas containing and focusing the Anchor, or Solas accurately judging the Veil's strength, none of it was liable to change an outcome that still concluded badly for me. For all of his accumulated knowledge and countless millennia, it might not be enough --and that was probably the most intensely dispiriting and antagonizing reality of all of this.         

His hand rises to massage his neck absently, a quirk twisting his mouth as he mused over these new details. "Solas would know better than the rest..." Eliciting a pang before continuing, "he's spent more time studying the Fade than anyone else I've met."

"Yeah..." I murmur distractedly, barely suppressing the furrow as I peer at the friend beside me, having this odd desire to scratch the base of my skull or perhaps the center of my breast.

"Hopefully you're wrong though and he's got something, we need that way out."

"There is. That." Watching Alistair closely as I point to the viridian haze on the horizon.

He pivots to follow the direction of my finger, his eyes widening incredulously before glancing back at me, "You must be joking! That's where the demon is! We're trying to avoid being served for dinner, not offer it complementary service. 'Ah, hello...just passing through, don't mind us. We are certainly _not_ about to use that giant glowy gate behind you. Oh, and nice eternal prison by the way. Very lovely.'."

Okay, yes, very true. There was bound to be a nasty confrontation, but it still presented the least deadly option. Hey, maybe I'd get lucky and Solas and Larry together would prove to be like a dynamic duo and they pulled something utterly stupendous and random out of the woodwork in order to save all our asses. A woman can hope.

I did not say that though.

"We can do it. Together." I state with more conviction than I truly felt, clapping his shoulder. "If we stay together and fight, we can do it, Alistair. I know we can. We're going home. All of us."

A soft regretful sadness shadows his expression as his eyes study the rift in the distance. "How can you be so sure, Inquisitor?" He quietly poses, not taking his gaze from the horizon. "Nothing is ever certain, I know that lesson well."

There it was again --that prick, that pang of disquiet.

Words that had been nothing but a precursor to heartbreak. My name -- _my_ name, passing from lips that had not once uttered it though there had been no demand given against it. This insistence, this fear and subtle guilt...something was not right. It wasn't as it was before, where an elemental sense of recognition had roared to be heard, and yet there was still a sense of lingering wrongness that churned in my chest. What to do though? How to handle it? If I was mistaken -if I was merely paranoid...it would be more than a mere disaster to deal with it the same way...   

Alistair was donned in plate, so this might not be the smartest approach, however... "Alistair?"

"Mm?" Shifting his attention down to me.

"Sorry in advance." Earning a baffled frown milliseconds before my knee jerks up between his legs. Right as joint meets groin-

"Huh." Smacking my lips as again I stood alone with naught but magic and my thoughts for company --ah, wait, a spider companion! "Figures." Punting the springing fearling away with harried disgust. "So that's the play, huh? Free you with tricked suicide or murder by ambush if that doesn't work? Lame~" Spreading my arms and twirling in place just as a malevolent chuckle rumbled.

 _Ugh. Where's a jumbo shoe when you need it._ _Or bug spray. Yeah...a humongous can of bug spray would be super right about now._ I grouse with a huff and spin for the trail I had been contemplating following earlier before I'd been so rudely interrupted.

~

 _Getting antsy are we?_ Smirking as Nightmare's growled retort echoes.

**_Do you think you can fight me? I am your every fear come to life! How can you expect to win when you can scarcely fight it now? You are alone, you will fight alone, and you will die alone!_ **

_Yeesh. Touchy._ I obnoxiously needle, inciting another incensed growl.

True, it _may_ not be the brightest idea to keep poking the mammoth bear-spider, but it was either that or be left to the silence of solitary musings. Not really a fantastic toss up either way honestly. Fester and stew in the harrowing rubbish that enjoys leaping to mind or take a stupid stick to the colossal monster that wants to murder everyone.

Of course I chose the stick.

I couldn't wallow in the misery and self-pity. I had to remain focused -to keep moving. I had to have a goal, a reason to take one more step after another, or else I would become paralyzed. I would be a prisoner of my fear, and right now I simply couldn't afford to allow that to happen. One small chink -one small opening in the facade, and it would all end here --even if it was but for a moment. I refused to kneel down here and be consumed by the despair and the terror that haunted every step. I wanted to live, to survive. I wanted to find my future.

So I would paint a face of dauntless spirit. I would weave an impression of plucky mettle --and I would pray that my heart might come to believe, and that lie might yet turn to truth. This was my resolve -my conviction, and I would have faith in the path it paved.

**_Where has such belief got you? Friendless and dying_ **

_Stuff it_ , resolutely planting a boot against the boulder in my way and promptly ignoring Nightmare's ill-advised goading. Recognizing the increasingly heated jabs for what they really were --the last ditch ploys to hinder and delay.

I vaguely recalled this area, I was certain of it. Craggy lanes that diverged and yet inevitably converged once again. Broken roads of sparse cobble that led to only one unalterable end. A jagged terrace or the barren loneliness of a bleak shore. These must be them, I was sure of it as I leaned in pensive quiet between the two passages. The sharp cliffs high above, the harsh austere of islands suspended overhead...they stirred a tingle of familiarity while I stood undecided in the chill shadow of the fork's ridge.

Right to tranquil waters beside stones of living fears, or left to possible mortal toils? Insight or temporal, which did I truly wish to endure?

With a measured breath and brief shut of my eyes, I straighten, shifting to face the snaking slope above. Beginning to dig in and gain purchase as I moved when something suddenly disrupts the natural whisper of the Fade and halts me immediately to stand frozen and listen intently.

".....it's hard to trust my footing in this place." Low; robust, and perhaps just a tiny bit disgruntled. Drifting from somewhere nearby...

 _Where -where was it? Farther on the path ahead, down?_ Straining to pinpoint the exact direction...

"Ooh, look! Something to drown in." Buoyant, and entirely much too chipper for this place.

Already swiveling to race behind and managing three steps before I stop with an annoyed _tsk_. _Tche, another one. Like I'd fall for a third..._ Shaking my head with a cluck of disgust and pivot to go back the way I came. Stubbornly disregarding the weedy trill that I was positive continued to resonate somewhere from the lake path below. But as the voices became fainter and fainter, I found my stride slowed more and more, until I was once again paused on the grainy incline.            

If I ignored it, would the illusion dissipate on its own, vanish? Would it simply loiter there unmolested forevermore until someone finally stumbles across it? Or would it follow me like an aggressive gnat until I did something about it?

 _Nrrghh..._ Tapping my thigh irritably. Perhaps it was better to stop the illusion sooner rather than later... liable it would only grow progressively twisted the longer it was allowed to play out...

Rocking on my heels with an irked grunt, I spin around and march at a clipped pace for the fork and press on. Practically on the verge of childishly stomping as I take the uneven road to the lake further in and hunt for supposed 'companions'.

Solas had told me once that _'the Fade is shaped by intent and emotion. Remain focused, and it will lead you where you wish to go'_. I wonder if this is what he had meant. I wished to reach Nightmare and locate my teammates; and by the venom that been steadily oozing from the demon, I was confident my assessment of this current gully was dead on. I was near, and Nightmare was tossing as much as he demonly could to keep me away. On the brink of croaking or not, I was a danger to him and he knew it just as I did.

Extremely frustrating he kept lobbing these hallucinations though. Them and their accompanying bud of emotions could cram it where the sun don't shine. They weren't normal for me, I _knew_ they weren't, but I couldn't figure out how to distinguish them from reality. It was impossible to determine how much was actually due to my own anxiety, the Fade's tangible presence, and -or, from Nightmare's douchie tampering. And it was beyond galling.

Hearing some bark of amusement and the indistinct buzz of lightened banter as I drew down a particularly steep gradient and the path began to bottom out? Oohhh was it grating. I was going to relish pummeling Nightmare in his bazillion peepers for this...but when the curve abruptly turned and opened into an extensive shore, the vicious knot that seized my chest struck me immobile. Unprepared for the visceral impact this illusion brings. Drinking in the welcome silhouettes, greedily tracing the angles of each face as six figures stood clustered together and the ring of their voices began to finally become clear.

"....I would not recommend it. Your wariness of trust and...eh--emotional constipation?" Frowning and looking to Hawke in confusion. "Emotions do not suffer intestinal distress, Human Bird." Larry states with a perplexed furrow.

"Read it." Tapping his temple knowingly. "Utterly accurate."

Still frowning for a moment, and then, "oh..." nodding in innocent understanding.

Sighing tiredly, "I would caution taking much of the Champion's assumptions seriously, Larry." Solas advises.

"I do not understand, even now? But there appear to be bouts of blockage. Perhaps the Human Bird's suggestion of how to relieve it by ta-"

"Whoa! Whoa." Chuckling as he flashes his palms. "It's fine, Larry. No need to disclose that. Boring -it's boring. He'd find it dull anyway."

Tucking his staff in the cradle of his elbow, and expression saying anything but, "oh, I shall enjoy this. No, do go on, Champion. How might I alleviate 'the blockage' as you put it? I am all ears."

 _"Ahem..."_ Offering a delicate cough as he scratched his ear and let his gaze wander.

 _...so like them...so close..._ Feeling the brutal squeeze while I watched. Forgetting for an instant -just an instant, what my mission was. Wanting to see them for just a second more...

 _"-hem..._ well...you see, Solas, when one bald mage meets another.... Akira?" Bright blues snagging on me and releasing a jubilant whoop. " _Haha!_ See? Found her without even trying!" and simultaneously breaking the spell that had held me entranced with a blink.

As the faces turned at Hawke's hail and fixed on me with relief, affection, friendship, worry --I fisted the stone in my hand harder, needing no more of this travesty. I strode forward even as those 'companions' who I trusted rushed to join me, and immediately twisted to pitch my rock as hard as I could.

"Fu-! OW!" Bobbing back as my aim hits home.

 _Wha-_ "Hawke?!"

"Andraste's flaming cheeks, woman! You know it's me and you still throw a rock at me?! _tsss...ahh!"_ Sorely rubbing his forehead with a hiss as everyone else halted where they were and stared in stunned disbelief.

 _Wha...it's--it's them..._ Rooted as I'd been, gaping at members who'd I desperately wished to find. Locked on faces who I had perhaps started to fear I might never get a chance to see again. _Not an illusion, I-I found them...I...found them!_

Smiling at last. _"I found you!"_ Doing nothing to inhibit the bubbled sound of giddy relief that blooms. "I found you!"

_I found them!_

_I...._

_oh..._

_Oh._

_Well..._

_Shit._


	97. Remorse of a Present

Blood, the rich tang of iron as it filled her mouth. Warm, and oddly pleasant as it ran from ravaged skin before becoming chilled to the frigid kiss of twilight. Consuming the crisp fragrance of mildew that had once been present until solely its metallic bite lingered. Insignificant and such a strange thing to fixate on in these last moments.

Sputtered coughs wrack her frame, vainly endeavoring to prevent the blood from drowning her lungs, but she recognized the inevitable. The pain had long since vanished, leaving....nothing.

Desperately she labored to roll to her side, to rise to a knee and take just one more demon with her before the end.

Justinia -if she even ever truly was, was gone. Alistair struggled to remain standing -had naught save his shield, was flagging even now before her eyes against the gruesome wounds and the exhaustion of battle. And Hawke...her Hawke...

Fighting the moisture that stung her eyes, unable to look at the sight lain beside her. Why, why had he chosen to shield her?

_Why?_

_Why?_

_Why, you foolish man?! You foolish, foolish mage!_

Feeling the touch of an entirely different warmth trail down her cheeks.

"No, no, Larry, please! Please... _hic...._ please, Larry...." Hearing the distant plea, " _...please..._ " sobbed in desolate hopelessness.

She fought to rise, denying the weight that infused her limbs and threatened to send her under. She'd given her word, she'd made a vow. She couldn't rest yet, not until she had done all she could. So long as she drew breath, she would fight.

More fears, more demons. Terrors that had been summoned to aid their master. Swarming in a seemingly endless tide as she swayed on her feet. Offering a prayer to the Maker, wishing she had the strength to keep at least one promise as shades glide near.

 _Forgive me, my friend._ Fisting the hilt in a waning grip, regretting she would not obstruct the demons for long before they reached the mage. She wished she could have done more to ensure his survival and delivered him to the real world. She regretted she had failed her friend in protecting her lover. _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lavellan... May the Maker let us meet again and stand forever at His side._

Light; white, piercing, gleaming, bursts in a flash from the center of the mob. Blinding as energy surged outwards in a swelled wave. Hot, and yet...a sense of unbending endurance swept through her at its blistering passage. Its impression vaguely persisting within her breast as she blinked to clear the spots from her vision and stared out at the once beset ravine.

The Most Holy....

Breath catching in her throat. The very air seeming to suspend in her shock, and then...

No. No, not the Most Holy. It was the Herald.

Comprehending the sight before her and yet struck in awe regardless.  

Achingly exquisite.

Divinely terrifying.

The Inquisitor, she shone. So radiant and pure she shone. Like a lustrous shroud of unsullied crystal had cloaked her frail form within its gossamer glow, she burned in the midst of the now empty gulch. Bright enough to chase the shadows of eternal night, but not enough to conceal the visibly weakened woman who stood veiled within its light and a sparking Mark.

The Spirit -Larry, was separated from her. He bowed so he could meet the slouched mage who pitifully wheezed. Using gentle hands to tip the blood streaked face to gaze sadly back at him. Unable to hear the words that passed from blood drenched lips as an unholy howl of pain thundered.

Grotesque,  and ghoulishly willowy, but still alive after what the Inquisitor had done to cleanse the area of demons. Nightmare yet lived, his towering form hunched in agony as seemingly great pieces of flesh continued to tear away and dissolve before their eyes. The unearthly shriek of anger and pain reverberating once again as a grisly crunch and snap of bone starts to resonate, and the gaunt body begins to bulge and break. Ripping and expanding out of the meager confines until the sight of countless colossal limbs emerged.

_How-_

Feeling an irrepressible sense of fear as it persisted to grow. Her faith wavering just as the audible crack and sharp pop of the Mark violently sounds.

Larry was turning from her, inconceivably splitting into replicas and heading for each of them with an expression of tortured remorse as the unnamed brilliance at his back flared brighter alongside Andraste's mark. Questioning her own mind even as the intensity hurt her eyes, certain that even as irises changed and the Herald raised her arm against the demon, that the luminous haze surrounding her was imperceptibly thickening --taking an ethereal shape... _armor?_

Experiencing the touch of Larry's strong fingers on her bicep, hoisting her straighter as the agitated voice of Solas seethes nearby, _"_ _Vira la'var sa. Ha'lam asha. Sulrahn!"_

Disquieted and muddled by the inflection even as the copy who held her began to bodily haul her. _"_ _Ar te'elan."_ Hearing the broken misery though she could not see the face of the one who had spoken, spurring her to squint through the glare. _"Banal vera ma!"_ To look to where they were, and to where they were going as the scuff of a struggle rustled.

"what is this, Spirit?" Enraged, betrayed. Trying to muster the power to fight and wrest free.

Merely looking saddened even as the light blazed blindingly hotter and a cry screams into the night, he smiled softly down at her. "I enjoyed the short time I was given with you. Live well, Warrior of Faith." Before a rigid force seized and callously pitched her.

Through electric jolts, through mist of sage.

Into the looming rift and back to the chaos of the real world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Vira la'var sa. Ha'lam asha. Sulrahn!: (Elven) Lit; Walk/travel/to go as one. End/halt/destination her/the woman. Something!  
>  Loosely; Walk with her/together. Stop her. Something!  
> Ar te'elan: (Elven) I cannot  
> Banal vera ma!:(Elven) Lit; Nothing/nothingness/darkness take you! Loosely; The Nothingness/Void take you!


	98. The Innocence of an Hour

_I found them! I-_

_ah..._

_no..._

_no..._

_They're too close. How do I save them, how do I keep them both alive? How-_

Recognizing the crushing weight of accountability that steadily intruded upon my fleeting elation, dissolving those shreds of meager happiness that scarcely had been given chance to bloom. _Nightmare still isn't dealt with, I needed to get them home. Nightmare isn't dead, he's-_

"Inquisitor...?"

"Inquisitor?"

"Akira?"

"Hey..."

At last taking notice that I had straightened and was silently standing in a wretched stupor as companions and lover alike scrutinized my person with concern feet away. Uncertainty and worry warring within their features while they could do naught but attempt to gauge my apparent mental state. _Muster a smile, muster joy...must not let them see..._ Logically knowing exactly what I should do now, and yet, my muscles and my heart refused to listen and obey.

"It is all right, _da'elgara_ , all is not lost yet." No hesitation, no doubt; reading it all so very easily. Stepping forward with his small smile that had always held such affection, and yet now I realized was imbued with such soft sadness now that I knew his truth. Offering an outstretched palm as he always did. Unbiased, guileless, without artifice. "It will turn out all right in the end. I believe it, as I believe in you." Bringing me further from the inner darkness, wordlessly providing me a temporary anchor if I wished.

I wished...oh how I wished...

Beginning to lift a hand to gently lay my fingers in his, but...as subtle movement, a subtle shuffle of feet drew my gaze to slide to his left...to lock on the figure who stood with uncertainty no longer born of disquiet but from desertion, wistful and unsure of his current status, of his worth...it fell away and I hastened to where I truly desired to be.

Larry said not a word, simply stepped to the side in understanding as an expression of quiet surprise flittered across Solas' face before giving way to relief when I rushed into his arms. Hugging so tightly, if I was an individual capable of more than mediocre strength, I would have feared bruising him as the hold is firmly returned.

"I'm glad everyone's okay." Burying my face against the warmth, shoving the words past the vicious knot suddenly residing inside my throat. Not even close to the myriad of things that surged to the forefront at the sight of him, at the feel of being held within his embrace once more.

"What? You throw a rock at me, but he gets a hu- _oww!"_ Fairly confident by the thunk that Cassandra had delivered a 'light' punch to his arm. "All right, all right...you can give me a- _oww!!"_

Yup, definitely punched.

Faintly catching Alistair's amused, "never learn." even as every fiber of my being zeroed on a soothing timbre that softly murmured above, "I feared for what may have happened." It lured me from the bubble of comfort to raise my chin and look at the face inches from my own. A mistake on my part, for what a cruel twist of the knife it was to the heart at the expression of hushed loneliness that serenely stared back. "I suppose I have yet to adequately grasp your enjoyment of stirring trouble."  Allowing a hint of humor to color his voice before it lowers further in a whisper meant for the two of us and the cast of tender affection shadows his eyes. "You've done well, _vhenan._ "

I fought the sting of tears that unexpectedly rose at the praise and merely nodded, not trusting myself to speak and instead hid my head once more.

It felt good -so overwhelmingly good, to be told that in the midst of this hellish cluster-fuck of a situation. That it had come from him was perhaps doubly poignant, but nevertheless it did not alter the fact it was unanticipated and wholly treasured. So much was wrong, so much was on the edge of being destroyed, and yet someone was willing to tell me that my best was okay and I had done well.

Solas might never know just how much those three simple words had obliterated the darkness and given me strength in that moment, and that - _that_ \- was how I had recognized Nightmare's illusion for what it was: a fake. A pale imitation of the real man.

It had brought elated happiness, a welcoming flutter, suffering; but when paired against the real thing, it was not near as soul-pulverizingly devastating as the genuine article would be. Presently being encapsulated by the real deal made that reality chillingly _very_ obvious.

Solas held power over me, greater than anyone else has ever had. There was no escaping that overly evident fact aggressively jabbing me in the heart, and I fully acknowledged that paralyzing truth now. With a look he could captivate, with but a word he could incite or irreparably shatter the innermost intimate parts of my self. Parts that none had managed to reach though they tried, and yet he had slipped in despite adamant efforts otherwise. To contemplate discovering how deeply his grasp extended and consider what it might mean was terrifying. So long as the walls held, so long as the barriers remained, I still retained a chance to survive and thrive in this world. Without them, I feared the cloud it may ultimately herald. Of those alive in this land, Solas was the most dangerous to my existence, I would be an ignorant fool to forget otherwise. Emotions, feelings, expectations, dreams...they became blinding the deeper they ran, until sometimes even the train that had been steadily barreling down is already too close to avoid.

Fingers brutally close around the Anchor, unconsciously fisting the silky material of Solas' robe at his back. _I will not be caught, I will not allow myself to become blind_. Hunching farther into the embrace though my mind demanded that muscles lax and I take a step away. _Remove the Anchor. Do not be swayed. Remove the Anchor. Step away from him, step away from him now._

_Step away._

_....please step away..._

Listlessly the hold gradually slackens. As arms drop they glide with a last reluctant self-indulgent skim as I move back, experiencing the wretchedness of a painful emptiness begin to expand at the act.

 _....don't be swayed_.

~

"Speaking to air, my friend, she didn't hear a thing. See, look."

"Huh?" Falling back to reality with an absent blink at Hawke's voice and turning my head to follow his gaze.

"S'pose I should be used to women looking through me." Alistair good-naturedly chuckles as a hand shyly massages his neck.

"Sorry, I just..." Trailing off with a shrugged shake. _Gotta get it together...now's not the time..._ Doing my best to vigorously stuff it all back down and firmly cram it into its mental timeout box.

"Under the circumstance, I would say it's understandable." A trace of a stressed smile on Cassandra's lips as she comes to my aid and one I gratefully managed to return.

"I'd say that was an understatement." Adding his own humor, clearly not offended by my lack of focus before making a go to reiterate the discussion I'd missed. "We'd been making our way to the rift-" hiking sandy locks towards the haze in the distance, towards Nightmare, "Larry suggested you'd probably go this way, and that it was connected to the one we briefly witnessed in the courtyard. If that's true, then we should be able to get out the same way. Unless now that we found each other, the Anchor is a viable option...?" Alistair gingerly poses with a look from myself to Solas, seeking clarification.

I too sought his opinion, not having an assured answer to that problem either. I _guessed_ that it was a crap-shoot and the Anchor was a no-go unless I was purposely gunning to vaporize into magical elf gas, but then again, it wasn't originally my creation either.

"The Veil is strange here, as if it were distorted, except where it appears to be reinforced --a trick employed by the demon perhaps. This is its domain, and it will use any means necessary to keep us here." There was a tightness -a slight pinch of lush lips, and a hardness to those handsome features as he considered his response that cast a grim severity to the greys of his eyes. A revealing response all of their own. "An uncontrolled rift and the Anchor's instability may be it's true aim. In its current state..." Halting himself, but the damage was done. I could see it in the way he looked at me, the pain. He didn't need to continue for me to understand.

I had to struggle to keep my face from crumbling as I met those eyes head on. _But I still have to use the Anchor. I still have to close the rift behind us..._ Attempting to reject the flood of turmoil that churned with Solas' unspoken confirmation. Striving to remain composed and outwardly unfazed -professional, unaffected inside and out; and yet, I was unable to stifle the fear that desired to be given voice. "There's still mages inside Adamant who are alive, and our rebel forces." Almost breaking, almost pleading.

"Enough for control...and its removal."

 _ah...he sees it, he sees it all._ Was it alright to hope, to believe? It hurt, it hurt so much. Was it really all right for me to believe in a tomorrow once more? "but is it actually enough...?" Unseeing, low; spoken hollowly without thought. A negation I unconsciously uttered without knowing until strong fingers gently tip my chin to stare into eyes of storm and resilience.

"I will make it be enough."

Unsaid was the promise in his voice, and I felt my resolve failing as I reached out and clutched his robes. Wanting so badly to fall against that chest and accept the shelter it so freely offered.

"We all will." Hawke asserts from beside me, nodding once in a rare display of solemn decidedness when I turned. A sentiment that I witnessed was staunchly followed suit by comrades who had become friends.

 _Thank you...thank you...._ Seeing it all and doing my damnedest to stem the tears that rose, shutting my eyes against the unexpected assault as I leaned in tired defeat against the warm chest beneath my palms. _thank you..._

"Well, I suppose that means it's back to facing a snide demon if we want out." Hawke sighs. "Really, Archdemons and blind fanaticism all in one night. _Pff..._ if this day sucks any harder, I'm having an orgasm."

I can't help it, it startles a watery chuckle from me, and I press harder against the loving warmth one last time before forcing myself to relinquish its comfort.

"At least we're not dead." Alistair shrugs offhandedly.

Hawke twists to level his friend a look, his shoulders rocking with a snort. "If this is the afterlife, the Chantry owes me an apology. This looks nothing like a generous bosom."

"I shudder to imagine your version of the Chantry's teachings." Cassandra remarks dryly.

I was grinning at their interplay when the regal figure who stood slightly apart from the rest finally snagged more than my passing notice. I bowed my head to the woman mutely waiting and who watched with patient interest. "So you're here in this one too, huh? Justinia, Faith --sorry, I don't really know which to call you. I never could figure out what you were supposed to be." I confess and hike a shoulder apologetically.

It brought instant silence to the banter as all eyes glued and regarded our interaction in perplexed attention. Lost and completely at odds of what to make of this strange development an easy expression to read on their faces, and yet Justinia, Faith --whatever she may be-- retained her focus on me. A kind smile crossing her lips as she studies me. Compassion, a generosity of spirit lights her pale gaze and some of the trepidation that sparked at first spotting the woman dissipated. "Your memories have returned." She says simply. A declaration, a statement.

An imperceptible nod. "They have." I reply just as calmly.

It was an immediate bombardment then. 'Memories?' 'What did she mean?' 'Of what?' 'Is it the Conclave?'

Rapid fire and intense they came, and yet instead of the anxiety I presumed, a cold reserve bathed my mind as I continued to coolly observe the supposed Divine. "Corypheus used his connection to the Wardens to gain access to the Conclave...and the Divine. He was there, with the Orb. I saw what he did to open it." Regarding the sedate human narrowly. Not glancing to the others, desiring instead to gauge the reaction and thoughts of a being I was unable to truly determine. "The Divine was a sacrifice and I stumbled into the middle of it. We caused the explosion. We both came to the Fade. But it was only me who made it out alive, wasn't it?" I passively assess.

"It is as you say. I am what I am needed to be." Kind, soothing. Not an ounce of judgment or bitterness in that proud bearing or Orlesian lilt.

I snort, scratching an eyebrow. Barely suppressing the need to roll my eyes and shake my head. "Every time, I swear." It truly didn't matter I suppose, it had merely been a means to assuage my curiosity about her identity.

"So, you're a Spirit..." Speaking as though more to himself. "Why am I surprised?"

"Think we all knew that was the case, Alistair. The glowing usually gives it away." Hawke mutters.

When Spirit Justinia slid her attention away, I instinctively chased it. However looking at where it landed, I realized that perhaps I should not have been so cavalier and regretted my decision. She gazed at Cassandra with remorse though the warrior refused to meet her scrutiny. Her eyes were downcast and an unreadable expression was etched on the strong woman's countenance for all to see. "I am sorry if I disappoint you." Justinia states softly. It was an uncomfortable moment as silence was her sole answer, and other than a minute tightening of fine features, it may as well have gone unheard. Justinia closed her eyes sadly before she turned back to me and gave a smile that was possibly more lonely than it had been before. "You will need a guide to Nightmare's lair. I will aid you in any way I can, _young one_." In a flash radiant hues of gold shimmered from what seemed her core  before bursting in a shinning nova, leaving the featureless luminance of a brilliant spirit shrouded in gold. I opened my mouth to halt her, but already she had turned from us and was rising to provide a path ahead. I reluctantly shut it and tilted my head to consider the normally stoic warrior, shame and guilt hitting once more as I noted the pained crease marring the refined brow as she too watched the retreating form.

"Do you believe that was truly the Divine...?" She pensively intones. Dragging that forsaken regard to me.

I knew Cassandra would not desire my pity, nor would she seek it, but she had it regardless as I answered with the only truth I knew, "I believe she was telling the truth when she said she is whatever you wanted her to be."

Discontent, likely it was the same expression I had more than on one occasion worn when presented with 'answers' for this world. Funny enough, it was Solas whom had looked on with compassion that gave her reason to have faith.

"Real or not, Cassandra, the Divine wishes to help. Are they really so changed as to question their sincerity?" He patiently inquires.

What thoughts came to her mind as memories surfaced at his simple assessment? I truly wondered about that as the furrow remained for long moments more. "No...no, I suppose not." Cassandra affirms at last before inhaling in a steadying breath and facing us once more as the resilient warrior capable of standing against anything. I envied her that, her ability to take the worst in stride and focus instead on what was lain in front of her, to show strength instead of defeat when there was still a job left unfinished. Really...I really envied her that.

"If we are to face Nightmare, you must be ready, _da'elgara._ "

Staring up with a start at the feather-light brush on my left elbow, " _We?_ You're fighting with us, Larry?" Somewhat surprised, though I probably should not have been. Of course Larry was fighting with us, I don't know why I would expect otherwise despite the evident fatigue that strained lovely features. He had yet to recover from our previous encounter with Nightmare, I could tell that plain as day, and yet he would stay beside us regardless. _Larry...what do I do with you..._

"In a manner of speaking." Solas evenly informs, taking on a relaxed posture.

Basically effectively sandwiched between the two, I glance from one to the other, completely out of the loop as to their meaning.

"I can join with you if I enter you."

" _hehe,_ eh?" Face -shit, probably my entire body- instantly heating something fierce as I blink dumbly at him.

"I...I don't think that's what he meant. Is that what he meant?" Alistair whispers, sounding embarrassed even to my preoccupied ears.

A deadpan, "it is not." as features wore an expressionless mask, and yet simultaneously appeared intensely unamused by my response.

"Maker, that lecherous smile." Hawke chokes, nearly on the verge of breaking into hysterical laughter. "Guess the Apostate's been out elfed."

_I am not grinning!_

_Lord, I'm grinning._

Covering burning cheeks in an attempt to cool them while I commanded my face to rid itself of the gigantic goofy smile.

Locks akin to living mercury sway as his head cocks slightly, doubtlessly to delve into my thoughts to root out the cause of everyone's reaction. Generous lips puckering in concentration for a good second before that Apollo-like visage brightens in naive elation. "Ah! My form is very pleasing and you imagined it was one of copulation. It is not a carnal unity, I did not mean an intimate coupling of the body. Penetration-" _Oh Jesus, Larry! Why do you keep saying it?! Please stop! You're digging my hole deeper!_ Wishing a rift would promptly swallow me whole.

" _Bwahaha!_ I-I can't! _Ahahaha!_ H-his f-face!" Pointing at Solas in absolute delight as he bowled over. If Hawke suffocated from lack of air, it wouldn't have been surprising in the least.

"I believe the meaning has been made clear, Larry." _Woof, if eyes could freeze..._

"Ah, yes, yes." Cheerful, utterly oblivious. "The problem is there is too much and you cannot guide it as you wish. I will be your buffer, _da'elgara._ I pulled it from his memories, I remember how it is done." Larry bravely supplies, leaving me mute. _He...what he was offering..._ Warm and tender that lovely face turned serious as the faint touch on my elbow glides to my hand, rising to gently rest it against a heart that beat as surely as any other. "I can merge with you, and I will fight with you." Earnest, staring down with such grave sincerity that I felt the answering wrench of my own. "I will be your shield, _da'elgara_. You won't have to fear breaking."

"It will not be permanent." Low, tranquil; pulling me from emerald depths to alight on the Elvhen who morosely gazed back. "It is a means to give us more time." Solas dolefully professes.

 _ah...so that's how it was..._ Looking back with a heavy heart to the spirit turned elf. "Is this all right, it won't harm you?" Solely for the whimsy desires of another he had become thus, and now...again...

That expression he gave in that moment; quiet, soft, it hurt in its honesty. "Yes. I will remain as myself, _da'elgara_." Leaving so much more unsaid with that look.

I wanted to probe further, to question what it meant and what was expected of me, but suddenly Solas was there and I found I had missed my opportunity. "A moment first, Larry?" He cordially interjects. Initially I assumed the one he wished to speak with was Larry, however he retreated with a genial nod and pivoted to walk a short distance with the others who had been suspiciously silent and behaved during the exchange.

Should have figured it was because they were enthralled with the soap opera playing out in front of them. Catching the hushed,-

"That seemed like Solas has a rival, never would have dreamed it."

"No kidding. I was sure there's some poor sod charged with carrying the Herald's sacred drool pail around for when he's nearby."

"It is romantic." Wistfully challenging them both.

-as they moved away and wanting nothing more than to bury my head in the sand while heat flushed my face. _ugh...guys...it's not like that..._ Knowing it was a fruitless hope that Solas might not have caught it with his supernatural hearing.

We stood awkwardly; me in sheepish embarrassment unable to look at him, and him in what appeared to be distracted solemness. _It wasn't right, I didn't think that way. You're the only one I se-_

"I wished to apologize." Breaking the silence, knocking me from the tumultuous reverie. "I underestimated the concessions asked of you. I'm...sorry." Throwing me anew as his words stole the breath from my lungs. "I wanted to tell you before..." Pausing, glancing away for merely a moment, but I saw the wealth of anxiety that burdened that action. "...you must understand, I never wanted to hurt you."

So much remorse, so much contrite sadness in those eyes...

"Solas...tell me what I am to you." I ask quietly.

I needed no apologies, I never did. Quarrels, riled words; they had never really mattered. Whether they hurt or they cut, they had been truths. I did not care about the past, or the unsightliness of tossed aside dignity; I cared only for this. This man who stood beside me in such solitary sorrow. I cared only for him.

Perhaps the demand surprised even him as a subtle change invaded his features before it was gone and a familiar light darkened beautiful eyes. "My heart."

So deceptively unremarkable, so ordinary. No poetic verse or embellishment, merely...love.

"Then that's all I'll ever need." Reaching to lightly cup his face in my hands, gently compelling him to bend as I leaned to press my lips to his. Conveying with that tender brush all the emotions I was too afraid to give voice.

I did not wish for words of undying love. I did not need flowers or poems. Those two simple little words communicated far more than anything else ever could.

Timelessness, love; wholly inadequate and yet descriptions that fit regardless. He had become burdened with something that was the most torturous curse that could be bestowed on an immortal; love. Dooming and painful, an ache that would scar and linger long after the decay of the mortal flesh.

Did that make me an evil woman that I selfishly desired his heart despite it? That I did not feel sorry for it? That I wanted it all, his mind and his soul? Regardless of the pain it would bring him long after I was gone, I greedily wanted it all. Did that make me wicked?

_I'm sorry...but please continue to stay with this selfish woman..._


	99. The Innocence of an Hour

_'How are you feeling?'_ Asking for the umpteenth time within possibly not even five minutes.

 _' **Very well, da'elgara.'**_ A sensation of warmth -contentment, transmitting through our mental link, not at all annoyed by the continued pestering.

I release a pent breath, still not confident that the answer would remain unchanged despite having been told the same response seconds before. _Was I doing this right? Am I supposed to only think happy thoughts? How much is getting through, how much does he feel?_ It was getting damn near ridiculous how antsy I was growing since merging with the spirit. Concerns and some of the most ludicrous things kept cropping up, and it just made it all the worse because I knew Larry probably -definitely- had a front row seat to it. Sweet, sweet, poor, innocent spirit-man...he didn't remark on it even once. _My poor baby..._ feeling a fuzzy glow in return.

_Argh!_

Expelling another tired puff, logically recognizing that having his presence physically with me or not didn't alter the fact Larry saw and read everything about me anyway. I suppose it was the act of having him with me, a conscious part melded to me, that spurred the paranoid hypersensitivity and awareness. I perceived his emotions as surely as he must my own. Experiencing them as though they bloomed from within my own breast though I retained enough understanding to subconsciously separate and differentiate his from mine. It was foreign, alien; and yet there was no apprehension.

 _Perhaps this is what schizophrenia feels like._ I muse morbidly. _Always did believe I was an odd, insane person._

 ** _'You are perfect.'_** Conveying such a sullen huff that it had me smiling. I hastily wiped the expression from my face with a clear of my throat though when I caught the harried pinch still tweaking the handsome features of the elf who walked beside me.

 _Speaking of poor babies..._ Sucking my lips in, truly doing my best not to laugh again.

" _Da'elgara,_ I remembered pants!" Happily grinning down in boyish purity. My head had dropped in my palm as riotous mirth immediately chased Larry's proud declaration, and as I valiantly tried not to participate, I could only think, _Solas please don't murder him..._

He had just been...so, so proud of not being nude for once. I knew I should have praised him when I first noticed, but then, I didn't think he'd be so determined to make certain I knew he remembered before being spirit-glued to me! Solas who had stood nearby overseeing all went smoothly had gone stock still, and I swear I spotted the vein along his temple bulge for a split second.

It had been fucking adorable.

"Inquisitor..."

" _mm?"_  Raising my eyes and giving the Warden marching a little farther ahead of us my attention.

"I..." Alistair's face was hidden from my view, but I could detect the unease -the reluctant disquiet, that invaded his normally plucky timbre and somehow permeated from his back. "You...said you remember Wardens...did they....was it..."

"Alistair!" Even I jumped at the harsh snarl that erupted from Hawke, not expecting such a rough hail. The gooseflesh that rose from the tightly coiled anger bathing the mage's profile was involuntary, my brain sensing on a primal level that he would be dangerous if pushed. "Enough! You think you're only one who wants to know -that you're the only one with questions? You don't think we haven't thought about it -that _Cassandra,_ hasn't thought about it? Now isn't the time, Alistair. Leave it. Just think about her feelings and just...shut. up." He growls.

"I do not need your protection, Champion. But I agree it is better if you remain silent, _Warden_."

"I...right. Right, I'll do that." Observing the defeated slump that befell broad shoulders and regretting that I had nothing in which to console him with. Alistair defended the Wardens so staunchly that there was scantly anything that could be said to alleviate this tension. The second he opened his mouth to levy a justification or exonerate them, the atmosphere would promptly go tits up. Really...everything had been fine moments before, was I truly the only one who couldn't control themselves and wore their every emotion on their sleeve?

**_'It is not such a failing, da'elgara. Never that.'_ **

_'...thank you, Larry.'_ Sending a weak grin and kind pat through the link, knowing he had a particularly substantial blind spot where I was concerned. Though in fairness, it was hard for anyone to actually get on the spirit's shit list, most people could do no wrong in his beautifully innocent eyes. _'And that isn't such a failing either.'_

**Is that wise, Cassandra? You _are_ a Seeker of Truth are you not? Are you certain the Warden's can be trusted -that they are not even now turning against men sent to aid them, by _your_ order? They brought Corypheus. _They_ murdered your Divine. _They_ -**

"The Void take you, Demon!" She coldly threatens into the ghostly twilight. Nightmare was not yet done it seemed, only now choosing to return to assault the weakest in our chain; the Wardens, Cassandra. They engendered Justinia's death, endangered a kingdom to demonic rule; they had done much to embitter the Seeker's loathing, and still she would fight beside them to save a world. The proof lay within the sure footfalls that tread in the wake of spectral memory, tracing its path with naught a whisper of rancor or spite.

The weakest it may be, but the strength of her heart was anything but fragile.

"Now he decides to pop in for a little chat? If that isn't terribly convenient, I'll eat my boot." Hawke grits through his teeth.

"...it has been quite the gossiping madame..." Alistair gingerly concedes, beginning to scan an eye to our surroundings warily.

"Wait, ya'll can hear him -all of you -at the same time?" Surprised, why the blazes was I surprised?

"Yeah." "Aye." Casting a glance as if I was incredibly slow to realize it only now.

Well, _sor~ry_ for not being from a place that has demons frolicking around as though they're part of the natural wildlife!

"It's strange though..." Hawke mumbles, tipping his head to stare from our luminous guide to the barren crags starting to cage us on either side, "why hasn't it stranded us, or whisked us to some forsaken corner of its domain? Demons have terrifying control as last I recall..."

Sandy locks briefly bobbing in distracted agreement, " _Mm._ I wondered the same."

"I suspect it is our presence here physically." Calculated, composed; calmly following the other mage's gaze to sharp crags now looming overhead. "A tangible form of flesh and blood isn't as malleable as that of a dream. Perhaps it is simply not worth the effort."

"I am not certain if I should find that a comfort," Cassandra grunts under her breath. True, I did not know if I found that a comfort either. Did physical manifestations merely require greater power to manipulate, thus becoming a relative waste of energy? Or was it rather a matter of being cunning on Nightmare's end that left us comparatively unmolested? He was sedate, no longer so riled, and though the digs were no less precise, they had been suspiciously absent until a moment ago. Whatever the other's experience with the demon prior to my arrival, they felt the shift as well and the prick of misgiving in what may lay ahead was shared.

I find my attention drifting to the spirit I was confident was an embodiment of Faith, contemplating if I should perhaps be questioning her -its- motives, and whether all was as it appeared. A helpful guide as in alternate timelines, a mysterious existence that remained benevolent despite the influence of a hellish territory...one in which that plainly wielded the capabilities of a Spirit and yet it allowed me to retain my identity despite not being commanded otherwise...Yes...if I was in such a position as Nightmare, I would make use of such a guileless deception as well...

**_'I spoke with her, da'elgara.'_ **

_'Eh?'_ Blinking dumbly and nearly catching my toe on the uneven path.

 ** _'I spoke with her when she made her presence known. I knew the significance she held to you.'_** Beaming, sounding pleased with himself on a job well done, and leaving a hint of an unspoken 'I did good. I did good, right?'.

 _Wha- Larry! 'and you didn't think to signal that earlier?! Ah, Larry! Killin' me!'_ Wishing I could drag my fingers down my face without seeming like a mental patient. Worrying and freaking out over here for nothing! Bah!

**_'I-I didn't-'_ **

_'No, no! I was kidding, it was a joke. Sorry, Larry.'_ Puffing a dejected sigh at the sensation of hands frantically wringing. It was hard to remember Spirits didn't always understand mortal's brand of humor.

"Trouble?" The melodic lilt low, soothing, drawing me with a featherlight graze of knuckles across my jaw. "No..." wanting to catch that too brief caress and bring it back. "mortal miscommunication." Almost slipping and saying human. A quiet hum of understanding rumbled from Solas, and I would have sidled closer to that magnetic sound if not for a sudden change.

Susurration, the hushed rustle of magic being disturbed, and then...there!

From our left legless forms crawled, faceless creatures of the blackest ink that gouged and scored the earth in unnerving passage. Dragging mangled bodies with predatory purpose for allies who remained frozen in horror.

Gooseflesh rose, a shiver racing along my spine at the sight, but it was the whispers and eyes transiently clouding in torment that caused heckles to rise.

"...Justinia...."

"...love...no...impossible...you can't be here..."

"shit..."

Quickening the blood in my veins even as the frigid voice of Solas cut through the ghostly night, "remember where you are. It is a game, a trick of the mind to bring fear and unrest."

 _An illusion...illusion..._ Fisting the hands at my side, hesitant to fight despite assurances of Larry's status as conduit. A yet persistent dread that I couldn't control it and the energy would rip me apart. Clueless as to what the others witnessed before their eyes, but recognizing the images set in front of us was totally different from those of our neighbor. Shoving myself forward on wooden feet, not entirely positive whether what advanced in cadaverous fashion was truly real.

 ** _'They are as they appear. You see as I see, da'elgara, Nightmare would not be foolish enough to make such a blunder. I feel the hurt... This was not meant for you.'_** A brittle hardness coiling within my mind as he allowed the righteous anger to shine through.

 _Fucking dickwad._ Cursing Nightmare anew. Letting the trust of those beside me fuel the courage I needed. Gently calling wisps to collect at my hands, sensing the transformation -the utter change as those of my team shrugged the vestiges of Nightmare's trap from their hearts and stepped to fight alongside me. It was different...controlled, smooth...light.

This...this is what magic was supposed to be perhaps. This is how it was meant to be wield.

There was a touch of sadness when I realized that. This power, this magic -this special thing that separated me- it was borrowed, forcibly stolen. It was never mine, never meant to _be_ mine. I was human, a woman of a mundane world, and naught but science flowed through my blood. And yet here I pompously stood.

A stroke of reassurance as uncompromising metal sank into the last of the inky darkness, like a tendril of solace that wrapped me within its embrace. **_'It is not the same, little sun.'_** Soft, kind. Always so very selflessly kind. **_'It is as it is meant to be, used as it was meant to be used. A dream from which it is made, and a dream from which it will return. Spirit or Mortal, it was from a Creator's dream that we were given life and a Creator's dream that we will ultimately be given death. Body or soul, we may be separated, but for you, da'elgara, it cannot be. Fragments, pieces, we are made of facets of our Creator's while you are whole --structured complete and different. Your power, your memory --even your very name all form one concept, ma'elgara. And it is in this that we believe and gather, our one choice freely given.'_**

Spoken so kindly and yet there was a stain of sorrow that stirred at his words. "I don't understand." Not knowing that quiet confession was uttered aloud and heard by all until it was much too late to take them back.

"They were phantasms," misunderstanding the direction of my thoughts. "a hallucination to feed on our fears, and likely not the last before this night is done." Cassandra states with a practiced flick of her wrist, removing excess ichor from the sharp blade.

"Other than an aggravating nuisance, they haven't been too much trouble to deal with. Well, so far."

"These are but minor servants of the Nightmare. I am more concerned with what it has chosen to hide." Solas counters.

" _Minor?"_ Tone implying he was not in the least excited to see what was categorized as 'not minor' by the Inquisition's resident Fade expert.

A barely perceptible inclination to the Warden, "Indeed." Solas confirms calmly, as if he may as well be commenting on the state of Orlesian economics. "A being of its stature will never lack of eager recruits to fill their ranks."

"But isn't that all the fun?" Hawke airily challenges with a flippant wave of his hand. Both Cassandra's and Alistair's expression seemed to plainly argue differently while Solas' reply to the mage was merely a finely arched brow. "And, who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and there's a desire demon sauntering somewhere in the mix. Now _that_ would be an encounter."

I can't help it. "Choice. Spirit." I mock with vaguely suppressed amusement. "They prefer, 'Choice Spirit'."

Eyes glittering and smirking wickedly, "Know that for a certainty do you?" he hums. To which I simply returned the devilish grin as a grunt of disgust clearly harrumphed into the peace of endless twilight tucked around us.

~

I felt better, invigorated. As those seconds since coupling with Larry had turned to minutes and those minutes dragged on, I gradually began to notice the change. Akin to a sluggish creep muscles that had screamed and skin that was bruised began to ease, the drudging fatigue that had been eating away at my spirits for hours starting to fade. Whether a side effect of the merging or a conscious effort on behalf of the spirit, I could only assume as any probing was greeted with a fluffy warmth reminiscent of a smile. Either case, I was profoundly grateful and recognized it was a debt in which I did not think I would ever be able to fully repay.

But I would try.

Maybe I could temp Larry into experiencing the waking world for a bit. Okay, I mean yes it was horrible and petrifying a decent portion of the time, but there was exquisite marvels and wondrous charms to offset the bad as well. I could strive to show him those things, give him better memories than the ones he must surely carry from untold millennia grieving within a realm of silence.

I could try.

I held that pledge close to my heart as the anxiety of using magic lessened with each successful cast against demons who barred our path. Rippling pools of sludge bubbling beneath our heel, silhouettes locked in mute agony clambering and grasping to escape from a sheer rock face; two distinct illusions catered to comrades and designed to further disturb their psyche. I knew not what each had been forced to see, and I did not ask. The grind of their teeth and glint in their eye had been enough to snuff out any modicum of curiosity.

A taste of disconcerting claustrophobia, the sensation of being funneled, it was abating as we marched in ever increasing grim quiet. The deep trench we had no choice but to follow widening, the high crags towering on either side gradually spacing further apart as we descended farther and farther into Nightmare's lair.

Eerie, still; the low, constant whisper of the Fade long since waning then ceasing altogether. Abandoning the air to a stagnant foreboding that seeped into our bones and chilled our veins. Though islands of stone aimlessly hung and rubble lightly drifted in an endless dance, seemingly we had become suspended in a dimension of bated breath within this lonely channel. It invaded our thoughts, pervaded our steps. Nightmare was here and there would be no more flirtatious distractions, no more whimsy plays, we knew this down to our marrow.

 _'Though darkness closes, I am shielded by flame. Andraste, guide me. Maker, take me to your side.'_ Hushed, whispered words of strength that carried into the night. An invocation of faith imbued with such steel the mettle of the woman who invoked them never in doubt. An orison others in her wake repeated within their hearts, the fires of courage burning bright in their eyes and steady in their step.

I observed the men who marched with daring, tracing outlines forged in valor. _Stay beside me. Do not leave my side._ It was a command that seared my throat and suffocated my voice, an order desperately seeking release, and yet it had become viciously locked inside. They had come so far, lived through so much, they could not be lost now. _Maker...If there truly is a God of Thedas, _then please....once more...watch over them_._

**_'Our aim will be true.'_ **

_'No question.'_ I agree just as resolute, willing the slow-painstaking process of a Spirit Blade with firm determination. One crack, one opportunity. There only needed to be one opening and I could get them both home. Nightmare didn't have to be killed. Didn't have to be caged or crippled. He only needed to be out of the way for a single moment, a single moment in which to ensure two men were sent home. I could do this.

 _We_ could do this.

**_then come, little god..._ **

As high cliffs parted, as walls widened to reveal the vast ravine beyond; I barely perceived the taunt that whispered not out loud, but through my mind when it all was suddenly gone, and my world became consumed by darkness.


	100. The Fallen Remnant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY!
> 
> Walk with me in my solitude  
> Stand with me in my end  
> Bow now heavy  
> Shield now broken  
> Though darkness comes for me  
> Do not mourn  
> Even shall I forget  
> Guide me once more to your side

**_'-ra!'_ **

Pain, tight and suffocating. Pitiless and compressing.

**_'-gara!'_ **

I came to with a struggled gasp face-down in the dirt. Disoriented, winded, and perhaps wracked with desperate coughs as a ringing fog drowned swimming senses.

**_'Da'elgara, wake up! You must get up!'_ **

A voice, a man's voice --no...not a man...a spirit. The echo of a timbre I knew called for me, stretching through the murk, trying to reach...but there was nothing. Colors swirled, forms and shadows wavered and blurred. Sound...

_"--ell -ia. -he -oid -mon."_

Settling in a shaky clarity as all lethargically stilled.

_" -ou will not win, creature."_

The stuttered inhale that finally managed to inflate bruised lungs seemed sharp in ears yet clogged by an unseen force as a golden haze that had gone unrecognized and ghosted somewhere above became apparent. It soared --swiftly blinding scarcely recovering vision like a radiant eclipse as the luminance speared into the thick of amassing horror. Igniting with an inconceivably sunlit core, rupturing in a searing flash. Shrieks, howls; they were the deafening thunder that smashed through any lingering fog.

**_'It won't be enough'_ **

_Ah gods..._ Perceiving the snarl within my mind only vaguely. Had it been mere minutes -seconds- since coming into view of the ravine and the subsequent blitz that had rendered my unconsciousness? Ghouls, demons --we stood surrounded, and a hellish sea of waking nightmares barricaded the rift that might carry us home. Whatever it had once been, it now lay a landscape of horror and terrors. There would be no escape, no quarter. No mercy.

"Now would be the time to soil your breeches."

"Who said I haven't already?"                                           

The off-kilter banter, the snort; an anxious melody, a backdrop within a scene of macabre, one I clung to as I staggered to yet unsteady feet within the protective ring formed by loyal friends. Not a vowel was uttered, nor an eye turned at my stirring, but I knew it was noted nonetheless as those grim regards remained fixated and coldly focused. Akin to a tide, demons nearest and partially still whole were beginning to surge forward once more through fragments of those who had fallen. Wisps --ashes, like a spectral dust as their languid drift was disturbed by demonic passage.

Those shadows, these demons...purified --or possibly simply destroyed by Justinia's sacrifice. Stunted knowledge dictated this was so, but why, why had she done it? Justinia must have seen --must have glimpsed at least, the ineffectuality of a direct assault from my memories. So why, what had she believed would be gained from the waste?

It dawned at the same moment Larry's cool whisper hummed like a silken caress. _Time._ Small, paltry as it may seem, it was the only avenue left to her. A desperate, last ditch act to allow us a chance regardless of futility.

"Stay together!"

"Don't give them an opening!"                                         

**_' No...it won't be in vain. I won't let it'_ **

We were together, our hearts one. We would change this thing called fate, and we would pave it anew. My legs were strong, hands steady, when I stepped in a position between Hawke and Alistair. Prepared and braced to stand alongside these men against overwhelming odds. Spirit Blade remained lax in my hold, somehow still miraculously present despite it all, and I would use it now to be the shield that brought two men home.

It was the span of a second; sound ceased, breaths bated, the very realm paused in suspending stillness, then akin to a shattered dam or a hurricane they collided. The force, the ferocity -- the brutal coming together as demons slammed into our ranks wholly unexpected and like nothing ever experienced.

I shoved with all my might against the talons and the claws that bore down, attempting to push them back with the flat of the huge claymore. Managing next to nothing against the combined weight, haphazardly conjuring wisps in a hasty endeavor for aid when the shrieks rang and plans became a crumbling ruin.

We were powerless as immense pressure pinned us where we stood, collapsing us on bent knee from the united assault. And amidst it all, a disturbing reality.

It filled my nose -coated my tongue, that stench of ash and brimstone. There the space of a breath, fiercely suffocating, then a cruel searing leash scorching through leather as my calf is violently wrenched. Bodies crowded, forms scraped past -overhead- I faintly perceived it at most as my feet were ruthlessly taken out from under me and I was dragged from safety in a blink. The shadows and the shades descending, clambering forward in a frenzied lust on companions swiftly left behind and rendered incapacitated. They were lost, swallowed and shrouded by the throng, yet there was nothing to cling to but the instinct to be free, to continue to survive.

The taste of magics, both familiar and new; tainted the air, and yet they may as well have been absent. I sensed nothing, _felt_ nothing. There was simply the grate of otherworldly limbs taking a swipe at my passage and grind of earth against mail. I struggled, I thrashed; tossed energy indiscriminately at the nails and the teeth that came down for a free shot, trying to keep them from piercing through metal and leather alike as I desperately sought an opening to sever the thing that held me.

A moment, a second? Five? It mattered naught. I was separated, alone, and the lash abruptly vanished with a biting last squeeze. Magic came easy --steady, to my summons. Cutting deep gouges in those demons who loomed over me as I quickly shove to my feet, sweeping a broad arc with the oversized weapon when I do to give myself some goddamn room.

_The others. Where are the others? Have to get back to them. Have to-_

Swinging high then mercilessly chopping down, crushing two and sending demonic fragments of others adjacent to shred and dissolve from the expulsion of excess energy.

**_'Behind, slightly to the right. Push-'_ **

**My, how easy it comes apart.**

Larry fell silent, the arm poised for another wide sweep stalled as macabre grins spread and bodies nearest retreat a measured step.  

**Stay together --fight together, and you can all go home. Such a simple thing...yet you fail even that.**

A snarl tugs at the corner of my lips as eyes move to the creature that made itself known, to the ghastly figure that eerily glided through the subservient host to tower just out of reach. Horror. Enemy.

Nightmare.

 **If you let go you could make it --destroy those in your path. He is with you, he's all you really need, is he not? You and the spirit could run. The rift is** _so very_ **near...**

Silken, seductive, and I growl at the accompanying smirk twisting pallid thin lips. Clenching the hilt with brutal force as I pivot without warning and swing, discharging a tumultuous wind in a savage cone to rip ground and demons alike. Uncaring of delicacy or concentration in my anger.

Bone, fingerlike projections burst from the haggard back in an instant. Akin to hard spindled legs they flare wide, and whilst those lesser demons who had been caught in my magic's trajectory were hewn beyond recognition, the vicious currents seemingly crashed into an invisible wall, dispersing and ceasing altogether in a gentle breeze feet from the willowy creature. The tiny curve grows, a mocking smile forming on those gaunt lips, and I slice once more with an enraged yell. Demanding, _commanding,_ more magic to pour forth from the massive blade.

 _Fool! Imbecile!_ Shouting my fury as gales were summoned in a unremitted assault. As they continued to sunder earth, to mangle tissue --and one after another they were rendered harmless billows. _Fuck. Fuck!_ _Goddamnit!!_   

Surrounded, enclosed. Lessers here, substantially more powerful there. I had become complacent, having only a vague niggle of concern for the absence of significant opposition. Nightmare knew where our destination would ultimately be -where our destination would _always_ ultimately be. And now we were entrapped. Why divide when overwhelming would ensure success? I should have known, should have questioned. Stalling, it had all been about stalling. Why, why had I not seen?

For every two that fell as a casualty in my pursuit of Nightmare, five may as well have taken their place as I snarl and twist in perpetual motion. Covering ground, inching ever nearer to the sleek, wraithlike aspect that Nightmare presented. Let him gloat, let him leer. Let him believe I was cornered by threat of friendly-fire. Let us see if his barrier is so impenetrable when magic fueled by unhinged human is grinding into it.

**How very predictable.**

Smug, bored --a demean like smooth cream that rumbled and grated, washing through my system. _"Shut up!"_ Raising the blade high, allowing all the wrath that I carried to roar to the surface, to be my strength, as it smashed down. Light gleams, and great gusts surge outwards in buffeting swells as two energies crash together in a turbulent display of power.

Yet the barrier withheld.

_more...more...more!_

Great hunks of stone shattered, breaking, my boots sinking into an ever increasing crater. A deafening crescendo howling in sensitive ears as two auras clashed and refused to submit. Sparks; an ethereal arc of sage as a crack, a pop --perhaps sharply perforates the chaos.

_Give me more!_

Sensing the answering storm. And the onset of an answering boil trailing in the wake of untold limbs. Creeping, racing. Climbing just below the skin by the legions.

And yet the barrier withheld.

_MORE!_

Snarling the command, perhaps even anticipating the flood of warmth that welled and began to trickle in a hot path over upturned lips, down chin and collar to pool at my mail. Maybe I expected it, but still I endured. Magics erupted; bursting outwards, and there, a tiny vulnerability appeared, a tiny weakening in his shield. Small, so very small...but there.

 _Mine! You are mine!_ Unable to see through the cyclone that raged and had long consumed both auras, feeling the rise of it even now in response, yet unwilling to focus on anything other than the obstacle before me.

**You would murder the one consigned to you?! Are you willing to sacrifice those ignorant fools blindly following you as well? All in order to defeat _me?!_ I am fear --made of your image! I am every terror of your world!**

Piercing, bitter. Coarse. Those words invaded the fog, snapping the single-minded fixation. And unconsciously the power ebbed.

In a heartbeat a clawed hand ripped through energies like so much butter, backhanding with such force as to be akin to a semi. The feral winds ceased so abruptly as to shroud the ravine in an unnatural quiet despite the clap and echo of continued combat. I processed it -recognized it, and yet I understood it to be impossible. Rock roughly scraped, cutting and abrading exposed flesh as I skid and flip in an uncontrolled careen over barren earth. Tumbling in a wild pitch that sent my world to a spinning blur and dust to stir before it's over in an instant, jarring slam. Winding, bruising, teeth-clattering...but not fatal.

Impossible.

"l-larry..." Striving to suck air into desperate lungs as I lay dazed against a sheer stone face.

**_'I'm here, da'elgara...don't...trouble yourself and keep...going...'_ **

"l-larry, don't..." _Don't do this._ Managing a trembling inhale, a cough; my grip tightening on the weapon I inexplicably still held, refusing to relinquish it as I struggled to lurch to hand and knees. _'We'll find another way. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I didn't-'_

 ** _'...there is nothing to forgive.'_** Kind, strained; his voice a low hum that failed to conceal the fatigue and the pain though it tried.

Hairs rise, and like the damnation of an inescapable curse my strangled sob sounds as the rough impact of pure electricity collides with that of a dazzling shield and the harrowing scar of a tortured cry echoes. Again and again the whip struck, and again and again smothered hisses of pain filled my mind as I fought to stand. A demon of Pride looming tall while surely others interwove within the masses, the kiss of energy a dancing tingle across the skin as its arm readied for another lash. I swung; begging for forgiveness and yet praying that he might retain the link necessary for the spell a moment longer. Riling against the choice -hating it, but having nothing left. Denying the burn that stung my eyes and constricted my throat, raising gales despite the weight of my heart and burden immersing my soul.

They were our woeful melody, a melding of our determination and our sorrow. Ashes, embers; they fluttered and danced, ghosting through the storms like a beautiful snow. A lovely drift of life and spirit as Sloths and Shades returned to the ether, and a Pride was brought to kneel. Yet it was meaningless. Lost once more within the masses, Nightmare lay hidden somewhere behind those demons who had circled in a saturnine ring; however it was far from our failure. Eventually even these demonic obstructions would inevitably fall, and again he would have no recourse but to take his place upon the stage. This was the thought that smoldered like a beacon, driving me to persist even against instincts that shouted their rebellion.

Frigid pain stabbed like a knife across my kidney, dropping me to a knee with a gasp as I twist, sending energy to topple a Despair with a shriek. Halting the burning sear of its lance though the specter of its arctic bite lingered. Palpable force shoved from behind, putting me down with ruthless efficiency too quick to comprehend, my palms slapping to catch myself before my mind can grasp what has happened. Losing concentration, losing Spirit Blade. The gleam of a barrier flickers across my view milliseconds before the impact of a second strike, and already it was enough to break the shock and roll into a crouch, flicking a crude spear of magic of my own.

Energy filled my hands, coated in a flittering array over my forearm; and yet all the while a song of loss sang as cinders danced and death tolled in a realm of night.

**So this is all a god amounts to? Disappointing...**

Even as I stumbled from a blow, even as tears suffocated my voice --as the lilt of another cried out and the cloud that darkened my soul grew amidst the gleam of a barrier, I spurned this world that would condemn us to such a fate. "You're wrong! We were never gods. We're human, we're just....humans. Who are you to be disappointed?! You are nothing! You chose to become nothing!!"

**I am as _you_ made me!**

Nightmare's howl of rage deafened, but it was the sudden explosion of power shot into my sternum that changed everything. Bloody spittle erupted and stone crumbled in a small avalanche, the protection of Larry's essence scantly tempering the force of the harsh impact against the bluff's formation. Over and over sheer power hammered, attempting to burst through the struggling light, grinding and punching shoulders deeper and deeper into the stony face. The snap of bone is swift, and the subsequent waves of agony are irrefutable, however a sound intruded that demanded I lift my arms and move despite the torture. Growl, scream --whatever it took to push past the pain, just raise them and shield yourself.

 _'Larry...'_ Beginning to wheeze, trying so hard to breathe. Limply bringing arms to bear, crossing them with more resilience born from unadulterated pig-headedness as my mind collided with stifled quiet. _'drop your barrier.'_

**_'I...will not do that...'_ **

Tears, free and unchecked fall when light that had dimmed flares strong. _"Larry!"_ Sparkling with heartbreaking flawlessness amid the twilight as warmth --gentle and content, became my answer.

 ** _'Even if I am to break, I would stay with you, da'elgara.'_** Claimed without fear. And the denial that tore through my heart shattered the last of my faith.

 _Don't do this!_ Feeling despair rise --become a living thing, become a choked sorrow. "No, no! Larry, please! please...." Unable to stem the pressure that built, the heat that trailed unchallenged down my cheeks, _"...please..."_ Helpless as sobs were wrenched free, shutting my eyes against the pain, rejecting this reality that had come to blossom and bloom. _I can't...I...Larry...please..._

_Don't make me watch you die._

Again to stand as witness. Again to be a bystander.

Again to be the harbinger of death.

There was a thing that coiled and burrowed, a recess lain dormant that flowered like a venomous blight and spread. I embraced it, clutched it tightly. Spectral tendrils dark as ink punctured the light, bodily hoisting and dragging me forward in a savage grasp --and yet it thrived. I welcomed its presence, fanned its flames, encouraged the feelings that welled. Sharp, vicious; sizzles blistered and cracks boiled while arcs of sage madly sparked. Digging deeply, pitilessly eating away, as nails sank into darkness and teeth bloodily bare in feral defiance.

**_'No!'_ **

It bubbled -growing, mounting, into an undeniable force. Light --resplendent, colorless-- weakly sputters. Struggling, smothered. Ruthlessly confined.

**_'Da'elgara, no!'_ **

Power, light; it pressed outward, insisting on release --freedom. Fiercely shoving at the thing that kept it caged, violently shredding wards that dared dilute it.

**_'Da'elgara--Akira!!'_ **

A dam burst. Radiance rushed, an efflux of brilliance that crested and blinded. Blowing outward in a surged mass of purity; an unparalleled inundation of clarity and beauty. A peerless cleanse of will or fate.

I felt the staggering rip, the explosion of Spirit being barbarically thrust to the forefront --of the banishment of another alongside those shackles meant to protect. Of a power not my own railing against imprisonment, of the thrum of infernal fires. I felt it all, every moment of what was to be the end of my life.

Did I still stand? Did I yet falteringly stand within a barren ravine amid ash that softly fell, stand against unholy shrieks drowned in agony? A haze blurred my vision --enveloped it. A delicate blush of shimmer and loveliness that somehow comforted even as the knowledge of its life lethargically leeched away. Fingers tenderly cradle my face, gently urging me to meet eyes of emerald consumed by torment and remorse. Sadly I smile, losing sight of that beloved visage for a moment before it clears, and I wrest a last selfish wish past leaden lips. "...save them." Features of Adonis perfection break, twisting in stricken grief as eyes squeeze shut, seemingly in refusal. Then in an expression of pain they open, and the gentle hands on my skin slowly vanish as the spirit silently turns.

Unearthly rage howled once more, accompanying a grisly resonance of bone snapping --a chilling crunch of marrow and flesh being mutilated and forced to take a form of something _other_. I raise my chin, dragging my gaze to the side and from that departing back, shunning the desire to search past him --to look. For if I did, I'd lose the will to do what must come next.

_Show me what you've got._

Sadistic its static hissed, hostile its discharged crackle punctuated spits of sage --this Mark of Andraste, this stolen Anchor of the dreaded Wolf. A molten thrum, like an aggrieved river, that had long devoured subsequent sensations and left nothing save a haunting pulse. High it raised; stretching for the creature that bulged and tore --for the monster who expanded from its meager confines of skin and grew ever larger before my eyes. Steady I reached, hoisting the Anchor with a singular purpose at odds with the turmoil carried within the fragile limits of the human heart. Let it run riotous, let it take this piece of the Fade with us. I was ready, I would run no longer. If this was to be my destiny, then I would stand proud as the human I was without fear.

Within that cascade of viridian the Anchor burned, my one proof that mortal flesh and bone yet held against the corrosive power. I braced against that fire; reaching, demanding, its submission. Commanding its aid to finish this. Great hunks cleaved, continued to fall from Nightmare's colossal form, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. It would never _be_ enough. At least, not alone.

_Work! Help me, now!_

Fierce, desperate. An order shouted into the chaos of destruction, a veiled plea that went unheeded as vestiges of sparkling light blazed in answer. Building, seemingly becoming imperceptibly thicker; ravaging the gloom of twilight in its wake as surely as the demon caught in its halo. Igniting the night with solitary flame alongside a mounting scream ensnared by a virulent erosion.

_Help me! Help me, goddamn you! I can't do this alone! If not for me, then for him! Nightmare won't stop, he'll come for him! Take what you want, take your price --but help me, now! Help me to save his world, help me to save **him**!_

Sage glared, bursting in a vibrant shine, marrying the luster of two realities in a reflection of power. Creating a blinding shroud that seared and burned even as pain of an unimaginable scale ripped cries from the pits of my being, roaring into the night as the blaze of Soul streaked hotter, returning the call in its stead.

_You useless piece of garbage!_

Snarling my fury, perceiving resilience's incremental loss as two powers warred --as both Spirit and body became devastated by their opposing natures. Feeling the abrasion of Soul -severing, cutting; taking great fragments of demon as it swamped and clung, stubbornly purifying even as it degraded and tore. Feeling the wrench of Will striving to persist while mortal frailty fluttered and waned, becoming a fading beat of mortality. "I promised...I promised..." Breaking, failing. Struggling against the inevitable as knee is slowly brought to bend and the tranquility of a lake eerily comes to settle within the gully. At last collapsing on hand and knee, bowing in bitter defeat, "...I promised..." digging deep furrows in the earth --or perhaps it was only imagined I still could, for who could say for certain, stooped within a soft glow amid the stark evidence of my inability as I was.

 _I promised...I promised I would stand with him...I promised..._ Tasting the sting of tears, the burn of their anger as the object of my resentment closed in a fist, as it violently thrummed and hissed. _Damn you..._ beginning to shake from the strain, but past the point of caring as I slam it into the dirt. Cursing its existence, wishing more than anything I could strike it in earnest before the end, _damn you...damn. you. DAMN YOU!! GODDAMN YOU! YOU WORTHLESS TRASH!! GODDAMN YOU!!_

Yelling against every boiling emotion -every bottled thought that had been locked away, and yet I was given none of the peace I sought.

Movement --a rasped susurration; I lift my head with an accepting hitch. Immense limbs crumbled, disintegrated --were rapidly regenerating and restoring the damage even now, and an urge to utter a hysterical laugh welled as magic of a dark ilk unfurled. It spread, straightening in spears of smoke; bore down, racing on graceful wings of black...

The jolt of impact, warmth splashed across skin at odds with the frigid air -flaking, dissolving away...

" _ah-_ "

Gone. He was gone. I was alone, I was supposed to be alone.

" _a-_ "

He smiled softly, gentle and kind as hands woodenly rise, reaching for him, not understanding. Lips move, but no sound came as the tangible form he had chosen yielded and the glimmering spirit that he was shone once more. I reached, brushing ethereal fingertips only for an instant before they were gone. In a burst, grains fluttered and light gleamed, and with them, the snap of tattered sanity.

It bubbled, surged. A tortured scream that resounded through a desolate ravine while the anguished cry of a thousand more roared from a place deep and untouched. Desperately fingers grasped at beautiful fragments so much like fireflies as their light already lay dying like a fragile spark. Snatching at the delicate blooms, cradling precious pieces between my breasts as sorrow reined and filled a starless night.

The Anchor sizzled and cracked, igniting with an intensity of an inferno. Wild and untamed, an emerald flame that burned the fires of the soul that managed to linger, transforming screams of grief into those of indefinable pain. It consumed, razed. Infused body and Spirit. Stormed through mortal blood, thundered through mortal veins. The sweltering fires devoured, spreading its heat. Scorching, branding.

Irrevocably destroying who I had been, and everything I was.

~

Hours must have passed within the Fade, and yet scantly half of that had transpired here in the waking world.

They recognized it the moment the numbing shock of being catapulted from the Fade had abated enough to note the gloom of early morning that still clung to the sky overhead. Men braced, weapons were readied, and it had only been by the grace of Leliana's quick mind that they had not been prematurely cut down upon returning.

In a flurry soldiers scrambled to aid them, hefting her by her arms to drag her leaden body farther from the rift.

"Hawke!"

Cassandra raised her chin as Varric rushed with Vivienne from the gathered crowd, his dismay clawing away some of the fog rapidly descending.

"ah, no...no... you bloody, crazy bastard..."

In a haze she watched as Varric helped those scouts haul Hawke from view as Vivienne commanded healers and mages to follow in their wake. The oppressive weight was pulling at her limbs, luring her to succumb to the lull of unconsciousness, but she battled to ignore it as she allowed nameless recruits to take her to the courtyard's edge. She caught it then, the stilted gait of the one who silently walked alongside in a devastated daze, permitting himself to be led a safer distance.

Oh, no...Maker, please, no...

By Andraste, what had she allowed to happen? How could she face him now --face _them all_ now, now when their hope for salvation had been killed? How could she ever be forgiven for what she'd done?

 _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my friend..._ a burden of a wholly different kind infusing her limbs, pulling her under as a glacial breeze swelled.

A heartbeat before the realization it originated from the rift, the glare of the Fade blinded in a flash -thundering with a harsh crack. Cassandra lowered her arm, spots dotting her vision, but what she saw when it cleared --the _thing_...she couldn't attribute the shiver that slide down her spine to the cold.

"Get the wounded out of here!"

"To arms!"

"Stand at the ready! Don't let it through!"

Magic flavored the air, strings pulled taunt, and metal slid from their sheathes as bodies pressed close. Cassandra shrugged off the hands that tried to urge her to retreat, refusing to cower and run. She staggered forward, prepared to face this new threat, when his lithe form broke from the protective lines beside her. "Solas-" making an alarmed grab with her left to stay the mage, barely managing to halt his wooden advance.

"It can't be..."

She didn't understand, but it was clear he wasn't in a fit state, she needed to get him away from this fight. "Solas, I understand, but you must come-" He tugged from her hold, causing Cassandra to briefly stumble just when a sudden shadow emerged feet from the towering creature, turning her blood to ice. "Cole!"

"It's all right," he claims without a hint of fear, nor a glance to her or the soldiers nervously prepared to loose. "Boiling, blistering. Bolstering to the touch. She's forgotten how to shine." Cole sadly attests.

"Cole, wh-!" Casting an anxious eye between him and the troops who stood ready for an attack, uncertain who posed the greater danger. Needing only a second look at the boy to make her decision. "Stand down! Now! Lower your weapons!" Praying she had made the correct choice as she cautiously moved to dog Solas and step a little closer, yet stopping in tandem to give Cole and the...she...plenty of berth still.

How could Cole trust that thing, what did he sense from it? It was a demon, that much was plain, but a kind she had never encountered. It brought a feeling of utter _wrongness_ , of terror and desolation. _It_ was wrong. Drained as she was, her body reacted on visceral instinct to its presence, feeling pain by its mere proximity. And somewhere buried in her soul, she knew it was an existence that was never meant to be.

"It's all right...you weren't wrong, you can still come back," he gently implores, raising his hands to the creature that loomed heads above a normal man.

Jaws slightly part, the same pitch darkness that bubbled and sleuthed in great globules of sludge from its body dripped from its mouth and fell in black pools at Cole's feet. Spectral tendrils curled and wafted from the miasma covering the four-legged form, undulating in sinister wisps while veins of crimson vaguely pulsed in a race across its demonic shell. Four eyes of inconceivable darkness narrow, seeming to hear and perhaps listen, but it may have only appeared that way, for the unfathomable slits of night set within its head merely resembled them. And yet, the beast remained as it had upon first materializing in their world --static, unmoving...lost. Why the thought abruptly intruded, she did not know, but there was something...something that tightly constricted inside her chest while she tensely observed that brought a pang to her heart.

"...you can come back, you kept your promise. It's all right, they're home. You don't have to fight any more. They're home. Come...he's safe. He's here...he's here..." quietly repeating the last, almost tenderly cradling the muzzle that slowly lowered into his waiting hands.

In silence a shiver overtook the immense body. The filth that had begun to dribble across Cole's arms started to chip and dissolve as if brittle, eating away as though being softly cleansed by a kind wind. Beside her, steps jerked forward, and frozen as she was, she did not try to stop him. The miasma -the muck- it was corroding. Gradually peeling away in mists of ash, exposing the grace of what lay beneath.

A nose, chased by the delicate slope of a russet snout as eyes of ebony clear, becoming a pale silver that was faintly familiar. Eyes that changed once more to that of warm whiskey before they wearily shut, and the darkness continued to crumble from a form brushed by rich vermillion. Vanishing from the form of a demon that never was...from the form of a crimson wolf.

"Akira..."

She heard him, saw the twisted lament painting his face as he closed the distance behind the boy, but the truth wouldn't come. In her heart she knew, but her mind...her mind...

Light, like the lovelorn glimmer of endless stars, enveloped the wolf before Solas reached them. Igniting in a semblance of ethereal lanterns as their glow clashed against that of the Fade. Harmonizing in a breathless meld of worlds for a too brief moment, and the diminutive figure of an elven falls into Cole's waiting embrace. Bloodied, battered. Small. Their Herald.

Their Inquisitor.

When had Cassandra made the unconscious decision to draw near? "the Inquisitor..."

They were hastily lowering her, tipping her chin to the heavens, as Solas dropped at her side and magic tasted the air --desperate, urgent. Speaking into a soundless void, moving under the shadow of the rift. Existing within a false dream that they would all surely awaken from.

"the Inquisitor..."

Eyes of soft umber wearily open, staring unseeing at the boy who knelt, clasping her face between his hands. Wordlessly they slip to the sight looming, and as spectral branches begin to creep beneath her skin, a cynical smirk played at the corners of blood stained lips. The haze of the Anchor dawning from everywhere and nowhere, imbuing the yard with a tumultuous snap as the rift seals in a frigid sweep of unearthly breath and eyes tiredly shut. Shattering the dream, bursting the numb silence. Causing it all to return with a howling roar.

"Solas, the Inquisitor-" Knowing he would have the answers, that he would save her --that he would save _them all_. She knew it, she-

"Cole, hold her!" Hard, fierce. The harsh cast of emotion marring his brow as magic surged.

"I can't... I-" Frantic, confused. Hopeless.

"Cole!"

Fingers squeeze, and the anguished desperation that finally broke the night would forever haunt those who stood as witness. "I-I can't! I can't!"


	101. Chapter 101

Echoes...within an echo...twisting, churning...

Mists of lonely twilight cast in grey. Ripples of an impenetrable cold against unfathomable silence in an infinite horizon.

...hushed, tinkling echoes.

Low, gentle waves. Step...step... _drip._ One in front of the other. Nothingness, ice, cold... _still_. Stagnant. Known, foreign. Familiar, mysterious. Muddled...

Light of radiant, colorless, glittering hues skip, skip, skipping across crystal waters. Playfully dancing with fog and mists and shadow. Running, chasing, flittering, fluttering. Glowing in glorious, burning passage. Mute, silent. A step...step...

Echoes; twisted, tinkling.                                                     

Hissing.

Unfathomable ice fiercely tug, tug, tugging; pulling at limbs, towing footfalls forward. Ever forward. Propelling-

Propelling...driving...?

Where? There was...is...? I...s...

Light a sparkling wraith across impenetrable water; leeching, diminishing...grasped in greed, coveted. Hissed, twisting, echoes. Step...step... _drip. Drip._ Within a cascade of fog. Towering immense high, high, into the heavens. A gate --a wall. A wall...

Screams, claws; bodies blocking a way home. Walls of flesh and fear. Protect, sav-

Protect...?

...what?

...who...

 _Drip. Drip._ A step after another, droning on within an inescapable echo. Endless as the frigid grey...

Grey...as the gathering of autumn storms...beautiful...pools...no...they were...eyes...

...Eyes.

Alit, dark. Reticent. Those eyes that are known, precious. I-

I.

...I?

Step...step...

_Remember._

Illuminating a primordial path, one all would inevitably take.

_Don't do this, fight. Do not let go. Don't relinquish those memories that imbued peace to a weary heart and offered wings to a jaded soul._

_Don't let go, not yet._

Palls of mourning sang, carried on pleas from a distant place long left behind as ripples gently wrinkle in passing.

_Warm sunlight upon your skin as rays shine through verdant trees. A smile, rare, breathtaking, before the soft brush of home on tender lips. Forlorn, solitary. Alone. Always alone..._

Alone...? Why...alone? That...wasn't right...no...who...?

_If you surrender, who is there to stop it?_

Why did it stubbornly intrude, to continue to pester and persist? The echoes were growing, and yet it resounded greater than all else as a virulent fire seemed to suddenly infuse it.

_Did it all mean nothing? Were **we** nothing? And a tomorrow, will you forsake that as well?! Do you truly desire for an end?! Remember! Remember who you are, what can be done, what _ **_will_ ** _be done if you fall! Remember_ **_him_ ** _!_

Step...st-

Him...him...was there...?

Eyes...grey as a lovelorn storm....who...was this...they...were important. Important...

Heat --scorching, branding; burning into flesh. Searing into my palm, my-

My? What is-

Me...my...mine...

Why...mine? Me..my...mine...I...

I?

I.

There was...an I. A me. There was...a me, and...and...what?

_Little sun...have you really forgotten so much?_

It seemed...sad. I...heard its sorrow. Why...did it feel sorrow?

_Just once more...have faith. Please. For one last time...fight. Remember. Please, remember, don't let go. Even if the pain threatens to suffocate your heart, and even if your cheeks are to become stiff from sorrow, 'live'. Live. This is my wish. There is still time. Remember them, and return  -they're waiting. Return to_ **_him_ ** _._

Return...to them...to...him. Him...him..he...I know...him...he's...important. Important to me. There was...something. Something...I wanted for him...I-

...why...?

_He will be alone, he will_ **_walk_ ** _alone. If you do not return, those wings broken by betrayal will never mend. They will call to him, but never again will they touch his heart. He believes himself too far, too lost; the melody of those beyond the mirror will be all that he hears. The depth his bonds have burrowed have yet to be realized, or what you truly have come to mean. Will you abandon the Wolf alongside your promise?_

_Will you choose to condemn your heart?_

My heart...? You're...wrong. He...he wasn't that weak. He...but...it's true...he would isolate himself...he would be alone...he will become all alone...he...I promised...I...

_I promised._

_I made a promise to Solas --my Solas._

It came in a rush, a sharp gasp of arctic breath, and with it, wretched clarity of crushing recollection.

 _"Forgive me,"_ in a tide they swelled, bitter emotions that welled until they threatened to overwhelm and burst, _"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I-I..."_ Breaking, unable to halt the ragged sobs that bubbled and bled. Desiring oblivion, to lie down and have it all end. Becoming hobbled where I stood upon a lonely bridge, uncaring of all else as I curled around those cherished remnants, cradling golden fragments to my breast despite their blistering heat. Where I was, how I had come to be here within a realm of grey --none of it mattered. I could feel him, hear the kind lilt of his voice call to me. If only for a moment, he could continue to be here and I could be with him once more.

 _"...hush..."_ Quiet, tender; whispered words as though they yet passed from favored lips, feeling the touch of gentle hands cup my face without blame as though there was yet a harbored form. Tipping tear streaked eyes to raise, as if he yet lived, as if he was yet here and I could experience the comfort of his presence.

 _"Larry...Larry...I'm s-sorry...I'm sorry..."_ Drowning, shattering. Breaking. Wishing for more, just a moment more.

Warm; infinitely kind, lips softly press, kissing the tears from my eyes, unwittingly heralding waves of grief with their kindness. Wresting inconsolable breaths that shook the small frame in his hands, and still I reached for the arms that felt so real, wishing for him to stay. Meeting...nothing.

They moved away, those warm lips, and as I ordered my eyes to open, somehow I knew it to be a sad smile that gazed back.

_"You are not alone, they are waiting for you."_

Though a watery curtain stained my vision, and strangled my voice, I tried, _"no. L-"_

_"You will not be alone...ma'elgara."_

The touch of gentle hands was disappearing, leaving me forever, and with all the vain desperation I carried, I clutched fragments that had begun to cool, believing they would somehow hold him here a moment longer. _"Don't go, p-please, don't go. Tell me it will all be all right. Tell me...t-tell me..."_

_Tell me you'll be here, tell me that I was your sun._

_Tell me you'll be waiting._

Harder the tears fall, and no longer did I care if I would ever witness the light of a midday sun, I wanted only one thing. I wanted my friend to stay.

_I'm sorry, Larry...I'm so sorry..._

Attempting to control the devastated sounds that persisted, feeling as though I had been submerged, but trying regardless to uphold a single vow. A vow made long ago in pompous naivety and had become something so much more when it was already too late.

_forgive me..._

I know you. I know you, now. Who you were --who you have _always_ been _._ There was never doubt as to your purpose, or your birth. You could have only have ever been one thing.

One marvelous, exquisitely unique, thing.

_"...Devotion."_

It was impossible --a morbid trick of the mind, and yet...and yet...

A smile of euphoria played across handsome features, _thank you..._ and even if imagined, it burned through the grief that perverted my heart. And I wept.

Wept for the life spent in isolation and despair. For the life that deserved so much more and was in turn given torment. Even as a budded heat now pulsed in my breast and fragments lay cold, I wept. Hatred, resentment. Bitterness. They coiled and smoldered like poison, and yet I could not summon them in defense of another though they beckoned.

Instead, for the soul that would never weep for themselves, I wept. Now more alone than I had ever been.


	102. Chapter 102

Louder they grew, distant echoes...rasps. Scratching, indiscernible. Malevolent.

I heard them, a low din, humming just below the sorrow that ravaged my heart. Building, mounting, drawing ever closer, and still I remained unmoving. Light that had once been a dazzling nova amidst the grey had become a muted ghost of what it had been--a light I now recognized to have been the source, and still I stood unmoving. Let them come, let them _take_. Let was to be, be. For what else was there to lose? What worth was there left?

I distinguished those shadows, understood those forms. Those... _things._ Denizens of the Void. Prisoners, spirits. Sinners...victims.

I knew well what those formless shades were that crept at the fringes of my vision, advancing. What they sought, lured by the radiant sun that promised unstoppable freedom. Infinite power. I knew.

And I did not care.                       

Not anymore.

 _Because of this...simply because of this..._ curling in on myself, hiding, desiring for it all to disappear.

This light, this strength that dwelled within, the power that was so grossly coveted...I cursed it. Cursed its uselessness. For such a thing...simply for something so disgusting...simply for this...for this...

_I hate it...I hate it, Larry..._

_I know..._

Splashes. A dark, harrowing clamor of untold limbs reverberating through a realm imprisoned within stagnation. Shapes, shadows, swimming below the surface -running. Slinking, crashing through the current...

_-but you must run. Run! Run, now!!_

Heat burned, burrowing unforgiving inside my chest, and with a tortured sob, I turned. Racing across planks rotted by time, through arches within walls of impenetrable mist, through seas of darkness and bitter cold. Across crashing tides and dangerous sinkholes. Vaulting over hidden pitfalls and traps, somehow knowing the path I must take. Feeling with every footfall the thrum of a renewed pulse, the frail link to life that called for me, urging me on. In each step closer to life, a suspended leach of Soul by arctic waters, showing me where to go.

It slowly grew, and with a burst I erupted into a landscape of tranquil grey, splashing into a realm I had witnessed once before, and there...there a horizon of soft warmth, of light. I ran, moving as quick as the frigid pull of unseen forces below the surface allowed, following that invisible tether that beckoned so gently, and yet so sadly to bring me home. Hearing the pursuit that hounded, and the chase that drew frightening near. Hearing sounds of another kind...of struggle.

What caused the hairs of my neck to raise, or the impulse to glance behind? Even now I could not say. That sight that consumed my vision was one I would never be able to forget. Luminous bodies, faceless visages soared from veiled places, descending on the ones who hunted my escape. Hindering them, creating a protective shield in which to allow my flight. Whatever their reason, I pushed harder, determined to reach that welcoming haze that quietly glowed. So close, so near, when forms of black ink skimmed beneath the water's surface directly ahead. Directly in the path that intangible rope led.

Make a desperate attempt for the haze adjacent, or let it end here and become as all the others?

I came to my choice in an instant.

And I leapt.

~

Heat? Cold? There was...an absence. A sense of being without, lacking...as if pieces were missing. As though a fog, a cloud, of perfect balance had chosen to cocoon itself. Serene. Light, buoyant. Insubstantial. _Free._

Where...?

My eyes open, or...I believed they did?

I found myself beneath archways of cobbled stone, gazing at a secluded inner garden under a dreary sky. I felt it instantly, standing within these solitary breezeways. A heady anticipation, a tingling expectation, coating the day. It sent jostling vibrations through the air, pricked the senses. But why...? And this place...there was a familiarity to it?

 _Have I...been here?_ Brows furrow as I look to clouds gathered in dismal array overhead, knowing there was more to it, that I was forgetting and knowledge was slow to come. This place was significant, there was something I--

_Ah, yes...that was it..._

But why was I here now, at this place? How did I happen to arrive at this moment in time? I was in mourning, in pain, and now...

It was disjointed, a far away slip of a thing. Near enough to touch, to remember, and yet...it was so far away. Wants, desires, plans; no longer a part of me, like water sifting through fingers...

_But that is wrong as well..._

Lowering my head, I saw it then, a thing that was missing. I studied it in fascination -in dispassion, turning it this way and that, the space where a hand should be. Higher, lower; tracking where limbs should be, where the rest of a form my mind perceived should be.

 _A lingering remnant of the psyche, is it?_ I distantly muse, letting the 'limb' fall. And with it, the clarity such a notion brought heralded another. The corridor and garden I stood within was alive, wondrous --or perhaps that too was an emotion in which it was expected to invoke. Under alternative circumstances I may have indeed experienced it.

Wisps, magic; a blend of the world and the Fade. Real and Figment. Of pasts and presents, of futures and fates. Branching, colliding; twisting and twining together into a joyous -chaotic, symphony. Thunderous, silent. Riotous and tranquil. Ah...how exquisite such a sight it must be...

With a detached blink I walked -drifted? _Yes...drifted...drifted, that suited and appeared to be an apt description_ , through the splendor that surrounded me, moving further down the breezeway I currently resided to the inner wing and its private quarters beyond. Searching for...something...

Scantly did I leave the garden at my back, it's heavy gloom yet seeping over the chilled stone, when noise apart from my dimension roughly intruded. The sharp clang and clip of steel and mail, of heel and voices. I paused, staring at the juncture ahead, listening as it steadily drew near. Utterly unsurprised or nonplussed when the figures who emerged for the span of a breath were those I recognized.

They were gone as fast as they appeared, and once more I was alone as those sounds of their passage gradually dimmed. I waited, no ambition or purpose forthcoming, merely...absence. I would have remained as such if not for the vague disturbance in the air, the intangible sensation that crawled forward from the direction those men and women had come from.

It slunk and creeped, and it was a mere few moments more that the source became clear. Cautiously, with infinite care, a diminutive but stocky figure stealthily stole their way into my hall. Their aim and goal readily apparent as they tracked the same path as those of their quarry. And with a cock of my head, I followed, at last...intrigued.

In an unconscious mimic I halted alongside their crouched form, observing them as they held their breath for a heartbeat -two, then gingerly peeked around the corner of a second juncture, spying on the group that was even now disappearing from view behind laden doors. Eyeing them with an inquisitive curiosity that I imagined had alit my own person on many an occasion. I watched them mutely, a frown sluggishly building as an unnamed thing --a sensation, began to nudge and solidify. They were starting to unfurl and stand, and my gaze wandered from them to the oppressive doors tightly sealed afore us. In mounting agitation, I returned to the body that was choosing to inch their path along the wall, uncertain of the change.

Releasing a sigh, I extend a hand and grasped a fistful of their collar before they get far. A shocked yelp and hard jolt stir the body in my grasp, but I ignore it and with a negligent thought, command the neighboring chamber to open before 'shoving' with a disinterested flick of the wrist. I was already firmly shutting the occupant inside and pivoting to return from whence I came as horrified shrieks and odd splashes chased by repulsed gags filled the hall before they too were muffled behind heavy oak.

Hm, perhaps that had been the garderobe?

Entering the secluded garden once more, two figures as different as beings could be faced off across the snow-capped space --or possibly more accurately, they glared at one another with tense suspicion. Neither moved, and it seemed they had become content to glower at the other until one admitted defeat. As before, my presence was not detected, as though I existed to none but myself. And with the same feeling that pestered upon watching the other mortal, I advanced to join the mountainous creature bearing horns and their willowy counterpart at the garden's edge.

Was it instinct? Excitement? Humor? There were any number of options in which to deal with them, and yet I settled on this. How...curious.

Raising both hands, I faintly skim invisible fingers along their cheeks in a languid pet, whispering, "I see you."

Pupils dilate, and twin expressions of alarm instantly snap in my general direction as both obstacles leap backwards, materializing hidden weapons from somewhere on their person. I consider them, pondering what to do next, when the lithe one growled that they should, 'take the long way. They can't locate the demon toying with them'.

 _Would that have been amusing?_  I wonder as they skillfully retreat from the area and the impression of two presences dashing away hits my awareness. 'Twas a harmonious limbo that I found myself in, however, why this meddling? For what reason did I choose this? By what intention did I suddenly view these individuals as 'obstacles'?

Most strange indeed.

I shivered, fe-

_Shivered? Wh-_

From the right and slightly behind light blossomed in a harsh flash, an intensity burning the gloom that any normal mortal unlucky enough to have been present would have become irrevocably blind. As it was, my 'eyes' were awash in an ocean of white for the time it took to turn around. And what was it that pitched front-first from seemingly the air, but a dead woman. A small, very naked woman. One that was going to-

I wince at the hollow, audible thunk of forehead soundly striking stone, not from a sense of sympathy, but of an instinctual habit of the physical self. Groans emanated from the female laying face-down nearby, gooseflesh already pebbling her skin from what must certainly be severe cold here in the mountains.

Well...not dead then, simply unconscious. Quite the unfortunate happenstance for her I suppose.

It was quiet here; still, as if the dawn of an anomaly did not lie meters from me. She was beginning to shudder, and there was perhaps a rippling answer of a chill that raced through me, and yet I remained as I was.

Above the Heaven's darkened, and the blush of encroaching danger and death cast a pall over this holy place, though none would taste their fatal energies until much too late. I 'reached', threading indolently through that escalating storm; lost, uncertain of the course.

_Why this? Why here?_

I let them go without reluctance, for solely it had been a whim of passing fancy to see what fruits they may bear, however they had given nothing by way of clarity. Once more I looked to the tiny female who slumbered so fitfully, so peacefully, without knowledge of what lurked ahead -of the terrors or the pain. Of the shattering agony. And I was lost.

How simple a thing to take and escape, permit a fate of shrouded mystery and untraveled gamble.

How painless to dog and return, to chase that route yet open to the one who had yet to cut ties.

How effortless to disobey and spurn in its entirety, a final conclusion before ever being allowed a true beginning...

_How simple...._

_How painless..._

Morose; words carried into the day, an intone that offered only remorse, for their acceptance meant the acceptance of love lost and the oblivion of ignorance.

 _Ah...so this was how it was. A sediment too large to be strained so easily,_ I cede sadly, gazing in mournful understanding at the me who was yet unsullied and free. _"By our choice we become shackled. In our actions we choose our destiny, every time the same. We are the one who will live on."_ Soft, yielding; all the while knowing the truth would vanish alongside this temple. My eyes briefly shut, grieving the loss such a choice will ultimately bring, but never did an apology bloom --not for what was gained in beautiful return.

 _Eventually we would be made to understand,_ opening my eyes, experiencing the flame of emotion --the burn of resolution, as I drift to narrow the distance and bend to clasp 'my' ankles with staunch determination. There wasn't much time, I could feel the change brewing. I needed to finish what I'd intuitively started and ensure a future.

The squeak of bare skin being dragged across tile as I hastily shuffle backward to the nearest door informed me where the chaffed nipples I awoke with originated from. Paired with the pounding headache and sore knot, much of the peculiarities I had upon waking were clicking into place. I had succeeded once before, I could do so again. I believed, I had faith.

The chamber --room, was cramped, barely better than a junk closet, but it would do for protecting myself from wayward passerby's and prying eyes. But she -I- was cold, possibly close to becoming hypothermic, it wouldn't do to live from this only to die from hypothermia or frostbite later. Blankets and clothes were needed. Clothes weren't forthcoming, but by the looks of what was stored here, blankets I could do.

Sort of.

By 'blankets', in actuality it was a haphazard snatching of cushions from every musty upholstery I spotted to toss without a care atop every inch of exposed flesh followed by a thick, dingy rug that for the sake of future sanity didn't bear too much scrutiny. It was a mass of questionable cleanliness in the center of the floor, but it would do as a hollow of warmth. Immediate concern of body temperature temporarily solved, I drift through the wall and set off for the next items on my priority list.

A holy site such as this and with a gathering of this caliber, there was bound to-

 _Mm, yes. That should suffice splendidly_. A grin might have crossed my face at the fortuitous find, for entering my hallway minutes later was a servant. Touting a pail in one hand and quietly closing the door behind them with the other, a gangly youth somewhere in their teens had just serendipitously landed in my lap. Although...it was unlikely they would be jumping to serve themselves on a platter...

Then, maybe a little puppetry was in order?

Was the intention at least, however the execution turned out to be a different beast. As they pivoted to continue with their duties, I draped myself against their back, aiming to take possession without a fuss and march them right back the way I came, however the second I made contact, I felt the paltry resistance and the feelings that lay within my potential host. In the distant reaches he perceived the intrusion, like tiny legs faintly creeping up his spine, and instead of breaking through the miserable barrier of Spirit that hindered my way, I withdrew. Having no desire to impose or violate another in such a way despite how effortless it would be. Even in this state, it rang as a line I did not wish to cross so hastily. The consequences of that snap decision though....

"AHHH~!!"

Piercing shrieks shrilly resounding through the hall and a bucket of murky water being thrown in my direction were my generous reward. The bucket and its nefarious contents sailed right through obviously, but the yelling...the yelling was a problem.

 _"Oh, stuff it."_ I tsk irritably, not at all enjoying the sound of pubescent shrieks, _gods, the pitches they could reach!_ and quickly cram the rag he still held inside his mouth. When he tried to bat me away and remove it, I was more than ready to slap him silly. "Touch it, and I'll break that arm," I hiss. Large hazel eyes positively bulge, and with a loud muffled scream of pure terror, he whirled around.

Smack dab into the door he'd recently shut.

I could swear the thud of him slamming into wood still echoed when he crumpled like a sack of potatoes.

Looking down at the unconscious face now at my feet, I couldn't contain the long suffering sigh from escaping. _"Well...nutsack."_

All right, I could concede that was probably the wrong thing to say, but in my defense I was strapped for time. And now I had to drag his ass! That's two in one day!

Geez, the things I was forced to put up with, I swear. Bah!

 _Considering the probable age and body type, it isn't much weight, however perhaps I could energize him to save time?_ As I contemplated what to do, memories of fruit bursting and logs splitting rush to mind, _or...maybe not,_ and suddenly I am not so eager to try it.

Exhaling a huff at all the unnecessary labor, I get down to work of dragging my newly acquired 'spoils'. Although it wasn't strictly by the power of a physical strength, and those skills I had learned since arriving in Thedas aided in eating up the distance beneath my feet, it was still too much -too long. The culmination of magics was rising, hinting of an impending crescendo. Soon the ritual would reach its zenith, and then the curtain would close on the Conclave's tragic finale. I had already decided for the both of us, our dies cast. If I did not make it, did the 'me' that I now was cease to exist? Simply continue to endure in this transcendental limbo? No...I could not harbor such thoughts. If the worst were to happen, so long as I remained nearby my younger self I could shield them from the coming destruction, but...it was not so assured what the cost such a deed would be to my present self. Now was not the time to test the limits of this newfound state, but...

_...but..._

_"Tche! What nonsense. I just have to get shit done then, don't I?"_ Hauling with more zeal, adding just a bit more energy to help me along.

As assumed, the nest and the me who lay smuggled beneath was undisturbed when I returned. Shutting the door with a last fugitive glance outside to be certain I hadn't adopted a tail, I spun to divest my unwitting helper of his digs. They weren't necessarily rich, but they were far from the rags the dregs of society wore either. Regardless, the heavy garb was thick and would insulate nicely despite the poor fit. It wasn't as if the circumstance wouldn't become customary and the new normal soon enough anyway, and I did leave him his under-things  -those I could very much do without.

Now partly nude and not wishing for any bodies to be prematurely found by others, I transfer the nest and bury him just as I had done to myself before shifting the focus to my more pressing issue. It would be far from pretty to attempt to wrestle limp appendages into corresponding holes -infinitely more vexatious than dressing an oversized, floppy doll- however even if I managed a sloppy dress job, this did not solve the problem of one very unconscious -very soon to be horrendously irritable- younger me. Magic was bleeding, those energies scarcely tasting contained as they attained the touch of a cumulative storm were hemorrhaging, and shortly the perception of those magics would seep like a poisonous vapor through these halls until even mundane mortals would sense the influx. If it came to that, it would be too late and I would have failed.

 _"Yo, wakey wakey."_ Tapping one rosy cheek none too gently. Yeesh. Man, that knot did _not_ look attractive. And doing my best not to dwell too deeply on the obtrusive tattoo that appeared suspiciously fresh over part of the other. Used to it now or not, plastering ink on one side of my face was not something I would have elected for with a beaming go-get-em smile. Poor bastard had no clue about all the heaping piles of crap that was going to be sailing her way in t-minus two seconds.

_"We."_

**_Bap!_ **

_"Have."_

**_Bap!_ **

_"No."_

**_Bap!_ **

_"Time."_

**_Bap!_ **

_"For."_

**_Bap!_ **

_"This!!"_

**_SMACK!!_ **

_"SHI-!! THE FUCK??!"_

_There we go._ Watching myself roll on the floor clutching their cheek in a pissed-off daze. _Oh, shit's about to get **a lot** weirder, woman._ Shaking my head depreciatively while confusion descends and fills familiar eyes, as details and strange sensations become noticed, as the odd aches and pains decide to make themselves known.

Silently I wait--allowing her the meager time I could; observing the me as they took in the dusty chamber, as she slowly stood. Recalling those memories she was experiencing first-hand at this very moment as though we viewed the world together through the same lens. The sore chafe and tenderness of nipples when I moved, the pounding throb that progressively radiated from my forehead. The chill crispness of an air that was somehow so incredibly _pure_ that it was akin to nothing ever breathed or dreamt of before, not even the farthest oceans or loneliest forests in existence could compare.

The potent tingle that virtually sang across my skin, through the blood in my veins, enticing a call to action. To dance, to rejoice. To revel. Singing -shouting, it's symphony to the deepest recesses of my soul in a melody I would only later come to understand as magic. Here --in this moment; lost and sourly irate, bewildered and intrigued, I believed I was in but a dream. A dream as any incalculable others. Fleeting, bizarre. Stimulating.

Marvelous in its tactility.

Upon getting a ganger at herself, _"seriously, it's one of **these**?" _she tisks in exasperation before gingerly testing an abraded spot. I knew the thoughts that flittered in her mind, _'realism's damn good,'_ and _'I hate you, Brain, always picking the randomest shit! Why am I naked, and why's it gotta be fucking freezing?! You're an asshole!'_ Too bad for us, but it wasn't the fault of our sadistic brain this time. As covertly as I could I nudged discarded clothes nearer, needing her to finally notice them, sliding them painstakingly closer until thankfully they were practically tripped over when she pivoted. My face skewed in a reluctant grimace at the pile, _eesh, that's the face I make?_ but with our sensibilities and current high of believing to be in a mere dream, the distaste was shoved away in lieu of progressing whatever scenario my psyche had selected for us this round.

I probably shouldn't be so grateful for how simplistic I could be sometimes.

Demented mumblings and miffed grumbles of, 'trolling, lizard brains', dogged my departure as I left her to dress and check the corridors. It, and those neighboring were empty, however I sensed the presence of a strong force steadily advancing towards the direction of the ritual. Whomever it may be, they couldn't be allowed to interfere.

In a swiftness that would normally have astounded, I phased, cutting them off meters from their goal. I spared the human nothing. In a speed they had no hope of countering I seized their collar and 'shoved' with all my might into the only open doorway. They may have had enough time to gasp before the bang and plop of sickly splashes drowned them out and the door was effectively shut in their horrified face.

Ah.

Another garderobe.

Returning, I witnessed the undecided hesitation when the me of the past stepped from hiding and into the chill mountain air. The garden was near enough to see the darkened sky above and it was there that she shifted to go as I press close, partially melding, remaining at the edges to whisper, _no...this way..._ softly ushering us in the direction of our future.

Such a simple thing, effortless, to be together, almost one. We were the same, and yet we were disparate. Memories, hardships, sufferings, scars; they had separated us and yet underneath the grime our core remained unchanged and untarnished. How comforting to brush that radiant nucleus without the limits of consciousness to obscure it, to conceal and cloud it. How excruciating the relief to realize it had yet to be crushed and blackened into a mockery of what it had once been. Truly...how very fortifying to be connected, even if it was only in this moment.

Spirits steeped in harmonious trust we walked, an unequivocal freedom and openness endowed only to the intimacy of self in our every breath until the thready hymn of desperate cries in the distance invade. A faint, indistinct echo that began to drift louder and louder the farther we marched, to become clearer and clearer the more we advanced. Meddling in the balance as those hazy sounds of distress accelerated the heart beneath my grasp and spurred the mind that ghosted my own. Igniting the dawning of awareness and spark of rebellion as the kiss of energies sizzled and crackled, as the mounting battle of anxiety and intrinsic sense to survive came to roost in the heart beating alongside my own. They thrived and flourished -those warnings and insecurities. Expanding like a virile venom until it was _I_ who was the master and she the bystander within her own flesh. I was given no other alternative as the doubt festered and motives became questioned, as the intrusion of memory and understanding grew and the thoughts of flight or fight emerged. I was given no choice as I seized full possession and set us on our course.

' _Wait! I know this! No, no, I won't do this! Dream or no, it's shit!'_

Denial, refusal; it was already too late, the violent struggle that hammered against the cage was already too late in coming as I pompously threw those doors to our future wide open.

"Ho~....what's going on here? A Sacrifice party with the Divine, eh? Such bad manners!"

_'Fucking cock-sucker! Fucking, fuck! Fuck you, fucking shit-fucker! Fu-'_

The orb was sailing, rolling quickly, the rattling of the bars a savage assault over control -one in which I had to battle simultaneously. Actions terribly wooden --disjointed, I shuffle and hop, frantically making a choppy dive for the orb before a desperate Corypheus. Fingers outstretched, grazing, grasping....

_**"GARGH!!"** _

Light exploded with a piercing swell; burning, shredding. Hearing screams that were not entirely human rending the air, uncertain of whom those tortured howls were ripped from. I was draining, bleeding away, slipping from the me of the past as we were being ruthlessly torn apart by the Anchor. Scantly managing, _"run,"_ before the brutal snap, and the existence of a world was gone.

Hurling, careening; shot into the abyss of oblivion. Cast once more into a corridor of pasts and presents, tomorrows and futures, between the boundary of Life and the Void. Firing like a comet through a dazzling tunnel of phantasms and mirages, scenes and moments I had been too numb and blinded by sorrow to have seen or pay heed flying passed in a nauseating whirlwind of flashes. Plunging, tumbling-

An unholy cry of bitterness, of visceral revolt and rejection, screamed into the void. An anguished cry understood to be my own, wrenched from the depths of Soul. Crying out in agony its abject denial as a hand raised and life cleaved. Reaching, trying to save, to stop-

But it was gone.

Once again everything was gone.            


	103. Chapter 103

A black dirge had swept over Adamant, shrouding the fortress in a mantle of uncertainty and despair none within its walls could escape. Singing, humming; a sad keen that filled the halls and the hearts of Man. One that would not be lifted until the eyes of a woman who carried the hopes of a world were to at last open. Long after the minutes had turned to hours and those hours dragged to days, two sat in lonely vigil, staying amidst shadows and secrets cast by solitary candlelight, alone in the stubborn belief of a miracle.

But a miracle would it be?

"You worry she is changed. Don't be. She is her, Will. Bright. Glittering, gleaming. As she has always been...there is just more _here_ now."

Shadows gently flit and waver, seemingly to reach in tenderness for the small form lain bundled, before it too softly spoke, "....you cannot know that, Cole."

"But I do. I can say what I mean."

Silence fell, the burdens of responsibility holding it, or perhaps it was the mere weight of but one single heart that did. To hope, to dream, it could be heavy indeed. It was an understanding Cole was gradually gaining thanks to the Inquisition and Wisdom. And yet he wished to help his friend's heart, to soothe the pain. The truth was so loud -boisterous, blusterous, blatant. If his friend would only but pause and listen...

Low, tranquil. Yielding. It drifted from the shadows and broke the quiet, "was she like you, Cole?"

_No._

_She is more._

**_They_ ** _are more._

It was the truth and yet even this would be inadequate, however Cole said none of this. For only one held importance, and Wisdom had taught him well. "Would it matter?"

A question in which the answer had long lurked within the depths of Spirit, but as brows marred and the taint of a morose light darkened elvhen features, perhaps Cole had been mistaken. Maybe he had judged wrongly, and his friend needed to be shown-

"...no."

Solemn, bereft, and once more the weight of silence sharply came to reign as two stood in somber vigilance.

~

_Don't return._

_Don't awaken._

_Don't._

_Don't._

_Don't..._

_...please._

Eyes open, the words a yet echoing plea in remote corners of consciousness, and how I wished I had heed their warning.

Shadows skimmed and flit by dying firelight, and though vaulted windows lay bare, the pitch of a starless night steeled the gloom, illuminating a lavish tomb of silks and comfort. A master's bedchambers. A mark of power and riches, of staleness and frigid loneliness, and even  the presence of two cherished men wasn't enough to wash the acrid impression from its stone. But even something so elementary was lost as I was. I distinguished nothing, _felt_ nothing. Nothing save the curse and damnation of returned memory, of returned emotion -returned pain.

I felt their burden -heavy, cold, still tightly clutched in my palm. Perceived it the moment eyes had chosen to open against better judgment; the barren emptiness of loss, the lance of grief. It scorched all else, bore deep, and I feared the infernal touch was all there would ever be.

I turned my head as those shadows shifted and danced, moved and wavered, became blurry and unfocused as eyes land once more on precious remnants, witnessing their wrongness. Their lifelessness. Gone was the vibrant hue that had stroked each grain, immersed every shard in breathless fire, until solely the dull tarnish of death was all that remained of what had once been a spirit's beauty. They swam and bleared, became a misty blend of colors, and yet I refused to look away despite the sting and burning trail of renewed tears. Allowing them to fall free and unchecked within the darkness of an unfamiliar chamber --for what did resilience and strength of heart truly matter now?

A figure may have slid closer, caressed my hair in tender comfort -in mournful understanding, while a second moved and knelt at my side, but I cared naught, I cared not for any of it. Cool, gentle hands covered mine and the fragments still tightly locked within them, and softly the shadowed figure spoke. "You refused to let go. You made them real."

Words offered in compassion, in a desire to help. Words from a spirit I knew to only mean to show kindness and alleviate suffering, but he was wrong. So very wrong. How was it possible to break further, to shatter so completely that there may be no hope to gather what was left of the dust?

I shut my eyes against the swell, wracked with sobs that boiled and burst, rocked a body leaden by an unknown heaviness and incapable of fighting against its tide even if it was wished. Fingers clench, fisting pieces harder as the tears streamed unbidden, plunging into pain's black shallows in the hopes for salvation at its end.

Hands were lifting me, holding me tightly to press to comforting heat, but it may as well have been a cage of iron in this moment. Sorrow sleuthed and doused the world, and if there was a light that struggled to shine in that desolation, I could not see it.

Creaks, cracks -crashes and snaps of a thunderous noise, arms that held tensing; they may have perforated the darkness, but perhaps not. There was the dragging sink of turmoil, of misery and seemingly endless pain, then as if a switch was flicked, it began to slink and seep from consciousness. I scantly detected the difference before awareness became entangled alongside that avalanche, and in a blink, I was swallowed by the blissful oblivion of a dreamless sleep.

~

"Maker...what a mess." Long, tired; releasing a heavy breath and a scrape of his palms down his face before dropping his head in his hands.

Leliana had yet to turn from her silent study of the courtyard below, hands loosely clasped behind as she stared from the window and allowed the rest of those present to settle and perhaps air the concerns that appeared to grow daily --if not hourly. Much as she desired to, Cassandra was barely halting the need to pace, and instead opted to lean against the wall with a cross of her arms. Action and activity had always been the best for her, but if she couldn't pace, this was the second best option for gaining some control of riotous thoughts. Or at least that was what she could fool herself into believing for the moment.

They were fatigued, exhausted, they all were. The past days had been one problem or concern after the other in a seemingly incessant string of them. And now _this_ to add to everything else...

The low creak of hinges preceded them as the door opens and the last of the two remaining members they waited upon stepped inside to join them. Solas quietly shut the door behind them as Cole took up a position in the far corner of the room. Though Cassandra couldn't read either --Cole with the aid of his wide hat, and Solas from his schooling and lack of expression; she imagined they were just as worried as the rest of them -possibly more so due to their insight and expertise.

"How is she?" She asks.

"Asleep." Calm, clipped. Infinitely polite in that smooth bearing. What is it he had to be angry about? They were concerned, that was all, and Cassandra more than others understood his guardedness, but there had been nothing lurking behind her question. She truly cared and wished to know her commander and friend was all right.

A frown pulled at her lips and she was about to inform the mage exactly where his attitude could roost when Leliana broke her silence and turned to the room, likely purposefully matching that aloof demeanor as she pointedly leveled her gaze on him. "That isn't what concerns us, Solas."

"I am aware."

"But you refuse to provide clarity?"

A tightness, an infinitesimal pinch marred his features then, and if Cassandra had not been in his company for as long as she had, she would have missed it altogether. "I believe I did no such thing. My response was sufficient for what was asked; however if you seek a definitive answer on the Inquisitor's future, that I cannot give."

"Then there is no help for it. Have you not encountered something of the like in your travels?"

"The forceful merging of archaic magic to a mortal?" Solas jibes. "No."

It was Cullen who raised his head from where he sat and cut in first, "that isn't the problem. There are men who are anxious -dozens who saw what happened in that courtyard, and now she's unsta-"

"You're wrong!" Cole hisses. "She isn't a demon! She isn't an unstable mage! She's not like _them._ "

It startled her, the vehemence in his youthful face when he permitted the clear sincerity of blue eyes to be seen. Cassandra was partially surprised by Cullen's hidden thoughts, she had harbored some fears -doubts, about what state Lavellan would now come to exist in after her ordeals, but never had they gone to such lengths and crossed into _that_ realm of possibility. She knew of the templar's past, the scars that had yet to fully heal, but she had believed him passed such suspicions where their Inquisitor was concerned.

"And what would you have me call it?" He was reclining in his chair, relaxed, however the hardness in his eyes and bite in his voice belied the impression of leisure. "I understand your position, but consider how it looks to others outside this chamber. The destruction wasn't confined to her room alone, that level of wild instability doesn't go unnoticed. Weak or not, _hurting_ or not, she's not in a position that a slip will go overlooked by those under her. Or those who would use this chance against us. We need to know that she is _fit_."

" _Fit?"_ Solas sneers at the templar in the first show of emotion since entering. "Interesting that worry for her apparent competence is now a point of contention. I do wonder where those sentiments were when it was decided to elevate _an unstable mage_ to Inquisitor."

Raising from his chair in a rush, "I have never-!"

"Enough, the both of you." Leliana harshly orders, letting the hand lain on the commander's shoulder drop without another word. Inhaling a soothing breath, she made to continue but Solas once more took the initiative,

"I am not so unaware, nor so blind, that I do not see the danger she poses, Commander," he confesses, again the picture of composed and collected, seemingly allowing the matter to lay where it may. "I have taken measures to contain her power until a time as she is better equipped to handle the changes. Will this not suffice to quell further whispers?" Solas coolly challenges, aiming his query to the both of them.

"Yes." Leliana confidently states without offering a chance for Cullen to agree or not. If it was something in which the Lady Nightingale had decided, it _would_ be as she promised. "Thank you, Solas. I'm sure it is not without its troubles for you." When the liable angling was met with but a cordial nod of acknowledgement, Leliana's posture relaxed and she walked to prop a hip against the table settled near the window, presenting her a view of the courtyard below if she was so inclined. "Have we found a source for the Anchor's sudden metamorphosis? It's appearance is troubling enough, but the transformation of a wolf is certainly an occurrence we cannot hide. I have witnessed the ability to change shape before, that was far from the magic of a shifter."

"It...was not." Solas confides, as if he was reluctant to offer more, or perhaps because even he did not have a true understanding to the extent his lover had been changed. "Nightmare's domain has been thrown into chaos, any hopes of sorting the events of our encounter has been lost. It may take decades before what transpired becomes clear."

So, it was unchanged then, Cassandra thought regretfully.

Conditions within the Fade had yet to improve since Solas had first ventured to return to the battlefield. Only, upon his return, he had discovered the dangerous turmoil that had engulfed the site of the monster's demise. Fearing the unknown repercussions of wandering too close, he had turned back, leaving the mystery of what truly occurred behind. How frustrating it must be, to be so near to knowing what happened to your beloved, and being repulsed at the last moment before attaining what was so desperately sought. 

"Magic," comes the low reply. Cole had been so quiet for the past minutes Cassandra had almost forgotten that he was still privy to their conversation. "She hurt and was afraid. It heard. It wanted to help so it took the shape that made her safe."

Everyone was speechless, and Cassandra was not even aware she was voicing her incredulity aloud until it was already passing her lips. "A wolf of all things?"

"yes," he murmurs.

By the expressions shared by those present, it was just as unexpected an answer as it was for her. Even Solas who had spent solitary days alone with the boy appeared to be thrown at the news.

Nodding as though to herself, "so it is a separate issue. Good, that is something we can work with." Leliana concludes thoughtfully. With a distracted tap of her fingers she then tilts her chin to Cullen and by all outward signs, shelves the information to be used at a later date. "The latecomers appear fine additions. I haven't received any complaints."

Combing a hand over his head with a weary sigh and seeming to take the unspoken cue to move on, Cullen responds, "I never imagined they would arrive in time, they were certainly a great help during Adamant's capture. With all honesty, without that cabal's bolstering of our templar forces, it would be a much heavier toll to suppress the Fade. Our battle did a number on the area, it's simple enough to sense even without Solas confirming the damage. There has yet to be bad blood between those who remain here, for which it's a blessing, but we cannot let down our guard just yet. Until their reasons for joining can fully be validated, they bear close watch."

"I don't disagree. Cassandra?"

Flexing her fingers restlessly and standing straight when that didn't alleviate the edginess, "I have not met the men and women in question I'm afraid. However, I trust Cullen's judgment in this."

"I do as well," she says with a hint of a smirk, then, "there is little that can be done as things are, but before we leave, I would add one thing." The smile had vanished, replaced, and in its stead a solemn earnestness that encompassed each member of their small group. "Whatever else, we are comrades. And for some we have become friends. But regardless of our thoughts and personal desires, we cannot forget that the people are who we ultimately serve. Despite what may be believed, we can never forget this."

There was silence, a mute understanding of what it was that Leliana was trying to convey in her message. It's meaning and intent evident.

And it was a thick silence that befell those in a diminutive chamber as uncomfortable words and uncomfortable implications hollowly echoed.

~

It was lethargic, the wakefulness, slow to rise and to come. It crept into the nothingness, stealthily stealing into the yawning absence until a gnawing awareness plucked at consciousness and the undeniable reality of cognizance began to dawn.

Ruthlessly it grasped and would not let go, and though the peace of oblivion sweetly called, it was not to be. Contentment...a life of happiness...perhaps these were things I was never meant to have. For someone such as I, perhaps they were states in which I simply did not deserve and would forever be unable to attain. Throughout the horrors and the suffering I had been given a glimpse of what could be, mocked with what was possible, but perhaps that was all they were. Taunts. Perhaps that was all my deeds would collectively amount to: too brief flashes of an existence I had no right to obtain.

But since when had such notions hindered me? Since when has life ever been fair or impartial?

Since when have I ever cared about what was deserved?

Perhaps it was the emptiness -the numbness, that caused me to wonder. They were there --emotions that would rend, that would decimate; swimming alongside the outskirts in unspoken threat, held at bay by an intangible blockade. Unpredictable, erratic; liable to crash down in an unstoppable tidal wave at the slightest provocation.

But for now, it seemed as if a reprieve would generously be given.

Dazzling sunlight, warm and pleasantly inviting, shone through spacious windows, casting ornate plays and tricks of the light across whitewash stone. Painting a chamber spun in rich sapphire and golds into a room of charming elegance. Disguising the rigidity and sharpness that would otherwise swallow a chamber full of reminders of leadership and duty once dusk fell. I remembered little of the scant moments upon first waking, but the memory of loneliness yet lingered. The welcoming glow that now bathed the chamber wasn't enough to strike _that_ stark assumption.

I believed myself alone, mayhap left to blessed privacy, however the scuff of boots dispelled that. In the span of a heartbeat movement chased that subtle noise, and from the mask of the canopy's bedpost within the afternoon's sun, Cassandra stepped and briefly smiled.

"You're awake."

A delicate hush cloaked the room, the short distance from where she stood before the bed spreading as though encompassing a canyon.

"It is good to see you whole." Cassandra adds softly.

Again the quiet of a solitary silence greeted her words, and it was this that caused a low sigh to finally pass her lips before Cassandra closed the distance and took a seat at the comforter's edge. Shoulders -strong, resilient; stiffly hold, then they too sag in surrender as fingers loosely came to thread between her knees. A dignified silhouette of morose defeat and loss bowed in the blaze of a midday sun.

"I suppose you blame me -blame us. If--"

"No."

 _Was_ there anger? Condemnation, for what had happened, for why she and they had been at that courtyard?

In honesty I did not know. The balm of nihility blanketed my wounds, and by the Gods, I was not so eager to remove its deliverance. Perhaps at last I had broken, and there were no more tears in which to shed. Or perhaps I had simply grown weary of experiencing what it was to be alive.

Regardless, I did not know what it was to feel blame towards them. If there was blame...if there was someone in which to lay that curse...

...the blame would be mine.

And it would be the Anchor's.

"...though I don't deserve it...thank you." And though it may have been imagined, the clasp of her hands tightened. For a moment she remained quiet, seemingly trapped in the labyrinth of her own thoughts, before troubled eyes of dark hazel turn to me and the taint of regret etched her lovely countenance. "I am sorry for your friend, Lavellan. He may have been a spirit, but losing someone you care for in such a way...I am truly sorry for your loss. He saved us. He saved _all_ of us. If only we had- if _I_ had..."

"...I _am_ sorry." It was as if the weight was too much to bear and she couldn't bring herself to look any longer, her gaze sliding away and falling once more to the hands fisted so tightly afore her. And although it felt as if nothing was left in which to reach my heart, there was enough that pitied her, her erroneous notion.

I took my eyes from the image she represented, dragged them instead to stare at the rich canopy above. Maybe somewhere in the depths of sub-consciousness darkness lurked and I too could not bear to see her in this moment. "It was not your fault. No fault lies with any of you, Cassandra." I refute numbly. It was the Anchor, the fickleness and uselessness of the Anchor that was at fault.

Staring above, my mind wondered; why must I suffer the company of others and the hollowness of apologies? Why did the belief that spouting such things somehow lessened one's grief?

Why could I not be left in peace for once?

Why?

Why...?

"Do...you remember any of what happened?"

All of it.

Too much of it.

 _Not enough_.

"No...no, I'm sorry." I mumble.

Burning, blistering...consuming. Purifying, corroding...

 _Devouring_.

Parts and pieces lingered, not entirely vanquished and razed...I-

"What? That cannot b-"

She sounded disquieted by the news, and I dropped my attention to settle on her once more. "I remember the rift. Is that not enough?" Sinking -drowning, within a lake of the blackest ilk. Hands plunging into the murk and the filth without fear, extended in compassion, catching me when I fell. The muffled rumble of voices...calling, commanding my attention...a haze eating my vision as I tried to answer the one who held me. Lethargy, leaden numbness, latching onto ever muscle, every breath. The darkness that was quickly closing in, ravaging the edges...and the blush of sage that drifted through it all. Hanging just behind the one who clasped me so desperately, like an insulting dream. I had known what it was then, what it was that I was expected to do despite everything else...

I remember it even now, that faraway thought that I needed to seal the rift and bring an end to the siege. How funny that in a snap it was suddenly happening, now, when I no longer held any expectations of the Anchor. Really...how disgustingly ironic...

"Yes. Yes, of course." Cassandra states, looking marginally relieved. She expels a calming breath after a moment and pushes to press her back against the post, regarding me as though whatever it was that bothered her, she was reluctant to broach. "I apologize. It...it has been difficult. You've been through an ordeal, and have only just awakened, but... There are _others_ who are of a differing opinion, but I believe you deserve to hear what is happening. I have learned that ignoring what is right in front of you causes worse problems," Cassandra jests. She paused, clearly hesitating, and as fingers begin an antsy drum, Cassandra quickly stands and starts a restless pace.

Evidently whatever it was that had gotten her so riled was causing an extreme case of fidgeting and agitation.

"There are rumors," she abruptly reveals, and if it was possible, appeared to pace with greater vehemence. "Most have proven harmless, though they are little better than flights of fancy. They would make one's teeth ache if their outrageousness was to be given credence," she scoffs. "But the others," she halts her annoyed march and pivots to face me, a nervous tell exposing her as she squeezes and twists the fingers of her left hand, "they are of another matter. You've been branded a demon disguised in elven form. A maleficarum by others. Truly, the story gets bigger and more outlandish with each telling. Perhaps more insulting, those same charlatan's that cry 'possessed', will turn and swear it to be by Andraste's divine intervention that you returned to life where it suits."

"How is this new?" I ask dispassionately. What was the point of this? Why did I need to hear this _now_ , now when I had no desire for the world outside these chambers? I would have rolled to my side, turned my back on the superstition and galling hypocrisy...but I found I could not. My body betrayed me -strength, the energy to fight; it was missing and dormant. A dense weight had imbedded itself, and now I was a prisoner within my own flesh, unable to escape such an insignificant thing as listening to lies I had no sentiment on one way or the other.

It was building, the want -the emotion; to scream, to shout. I nearly did, was so near that I choked on those feelings. Fuck manners and appearances. Titles and the opinions of others. Fuck being rude. Fuck the masses and Cassandra. _Fuck it all._ It was there, that mounting, boiling, desire. And I had to clench my fists beneath the sheets and swallow against that damning impulse. Somewhere...somehow through that ambivalence and rage I knew this warrior -this comrade, did not deserve it. And I refrained.

Whether she noted the change, I could not fathom, and with sincerity, I was not in a place to care even if I could.

The fine arch of her brows furrow, and the moxie of her regard slides away for a moment. "...I understand," she replies, halting the nervous play of her fingers. Hazel eyes study me once more, remaining quiet, before Cassandra retraces her steps and sits again in the spot she had previously vacated. Her gaze unwavering and clear as she faced the woman who was her commander. "The things that have happened, the things that you have done, the things that you cannot say...know that we stand with you, Inquisitor. Historians will one day ask what happened at Adamant Fortress, in the Fade. I was there. I saw it with my own eyes. It must be recorded. The last time such a thing happened, we created Darkspawn. _We created Corypheus_. The world needs to know the truth this time. No more legends lost to the ages. I will do my best to put it into words though I am no poet. I refuse for all that we've accomplished --what you've strived to achieve, be reduced to this."

My teeth clench, the burn of unshed tears gathering as the bite of latent feelings ooze and seep within the lull. Unable to repress a bitterness that rose and denied to be strangled. "What have we really done? Have _I_ done, Cassandra? We've accomplished nothing! I've done nothing but fumble around in the dark. I've gotten nowhere, achieved nothing!"

I knew nothing of the Veil. Nothing of the Gods. I knew nothing of anything of worth! What was the point? What was the point to any of this?!

"You don't believe that," Cassandra challenges, "I know what it is to be consumed by grief. To be choked with it." She confesses. Steel, sadness...and yet there was more, more than that. Faith. Such faith lurked  within those eyes, in that Nevarran cadence. She stood then, steady and with such unswerving conviction as to be humbling. "In my heart, I believe it to be the Maker's grace that has guided us this far. If not Andraste, then surely another of His chosen must be watching. We were in shambles, splintered and fearful, yet you emerged in our hour of need. And now you have returned and done so again. Whatever else may be said, I do not believe you are anything less than a miracle sent to aid us. Just as I'm sure _he_ believed," her head tips, gesturing with a slight nod to the nightstand beside. My chin tilted, following that motion, so that eyes alight upon a silken pouch, standing lonely and forlorn on solitary display. On a reminder that was the most dear thing in my possession.

Rage of the bloodiest ilk, sorrow; they flooded in stunning resurgence. A wish to seek vengeance. To raze a world's every dream in petty spite. A longing to simply lie still and pray to disappear.

By the gods- by whatever fucked-up holy shit-stain Cassandra worshiped, what gave them the right? What gave them the right to touch him, to take him from me and prop him as though a trinket? By who's fucking right?

_"Get out. Get the fuck out! Get out, get out, get out!"_

It surged, denying to be silenced and restrained this time. In my fury I had spoken in English, and yet even as teeth were grit and my vision was becoming a misted mess, I knew Cassandra to have understood. With an apology I did not hear she beat a disheartened retreat, finally departing my chambers and leaving me to blessed peace. Peace, that had been the _only_ thing  that I had desired and instead been thoughtlessly refused.

I used what little strength of will I had to force limbs to move, to turn away, to roll to my side, unable to bear the sight of such a beautiful person reduced to something so diminished and insignificant. I believed I could stem the coming torrent -hinder its looming havoc and submersion, but as those breaths came on a hiccuped pant and the ache of a tortured heart flourished, the soft click of a door's lock tolled and it shattered the foolish delusion that it had been. Tears flowed and the sobs that promised release by their end poured from a frame that frankly had nothing left to give.

I shifted once more, twisting to face the door and the elven I knew to be there. Reaching without a thought for the beloved figure who came to quietly gather me in their arms. Never perceiving the momentary jump of muscles sharply tensing beneath my fingertips before they relaxed when I curled into that firm embrace. Seeking the safety and solace they provided, allowing the storm that ravaged my soul to roar and rail.

Accepting comfort from the one presence capable of granting it. No longer desiring an end or the destruction of a world.


	104. Chapter 104

"I never suspected...." a low, weary breath passed from friended lips. A regretful light shadowing features of long forgotten knowledge as their head shook in remorse. "It is worse than I anticipated. I never imagined it to be herself as the source. Why did you not tell me, Cole?"

It was bleeding. Broken, fractured. How could he have seen the cracks without an architect to guide him?

But that was before. Before forge and fire. 

He had known what to search for now. The dawn of returned consciousness peeled the veil away, there had been no chance of concealing the truth any longer. Not when they had become one. Twisting, twining. Weaving, ever molding and embraced. He had _seen_ it then, heard the song that was his yet somehow irreparably changed and new, and still Cole could not speak of what his friend desperately desired.

 _She_ had asked, and Cole would not forsake the vow given beneath the solstice of a bitter winter's moon.

With a sigh of exasperation, "she tied your hands," he surmises.

A grateful puff exhaled at the Wolf's intuition. "yes," Cole said.

He felt...relief? Yes, it was relief that Cole experienced. Solas was capable of seeing _more,_ enough to guess the truth, and though a mere piece of the whole it would be, it was a piece of heavy importance, one that Cole had grown concerned to carry alone for much longer. A Creator their Inquisitor may be, but nonetheless she had been mortal.

"And I presume any insight is likewise constrained," Solas asserts without heat. When Cole maintained his silence, an expression of fatigue briefly flit across his face, and eyes of grey shut for a moment as hands are calmly brought to bear behind him. A fleeting moment of quiet contemplation shared between two souls while puzzles sang and truths clouded. A moment that splintered and snapped a heartbeat after when the creak of thick oak gravely intrudes.

Tangles, coils. They grasped her tightly as Cassandra stepped from the master's chambers and closed the door behind her, as she moved to join them within a hall in scarcely better condition than the rest of Adamant.

"Cassandra?" His hands were no longer clasped and the alert gaze of the hunt now lurked at the expression that turned to them; yet Cole heard worry's call from the shallows of Spirit, knew that tranquility's waters could become unsettled in an instant, but this wasn't Cole's place. His time. Another needed him more. In order to help, he had to let her reach.

"I-" A scoff, an indistinct rumble of self-disgusted. "I've stepped on my own tongue. If you could..." Again that subtle burble comes, and Cassandra shakes her head before attempting once more. "I'm sorry --Maker, that is all I seem to do. Apologize. Just...look after the Inquisitor, Solas. I seem a poor substitute."

There was worry, yes, but there was another...a spark. The gentle burn of anger against their comrade for disregarding his counsel and bringing harm. However Solas let none slip.

The hint of a nod acknowledged her words. "Of course. That was never in doubt, Seeker." Cordial, polite. A mannered mask above the flame. It caused the lips of Cole's mouth to pinch slightly, but it was their friend of faith that required his presence more. Instead, as one separated to comfort their heart, Cole trailed a warrior that sought truth more than any other.

~

Was it days that had passed in malaise and mire? Weeks?

No...

No, surely not. For I --for the Inquisitor, would never have been given time to grieve. The doll that we were, never would we have been allowed the humanity afforded others.

They bled together; were doldrums of yawning awareness while yet others were shimmers of loss as arms weathered the storm and a voice tenderly promised safe harbor. Those hours --those scant days, they dripped and bled as one.

I awoke alone, not such a rare thing though it was never for long. Solas or in a few occurrences Cole, having taken to ensuring I was never left without the comfort of another. Physically, my strength was returning in increments --shaky though it was. Emotionally...emotionally, I was unfit to be of anyone's company. Those instances when tears fleetingly waned and grief briefly abated, neither did I ask after my welfare or what had happened to me and the circumstance after, and neither were they offered and given answer. It was as if Solas somehow understood that these were elements in which I was not yet ready to face, that this new reality was not yet a truth I was ready to coexist alongside. For a moment more...for a moment more I merely wished for _this_ , an absence of nothing.

This wakefulness, this morning, it was different. I felt the change, the marked lucidity. There was a clarity of mind, of consciousness, that felt as though a return after having been long deprived. The mist was lifted, and a taste of what days would now become were a flavor upon my heart. Resolve, tenacity; the pigheaded persistence to press on...was this all they amount to? Were such things worth the price ultimately extracted in recompense? If the cost of faith was one's self, I chose to spit on the collector for proposing such an unjust trade.

Staring above as the dazzle of a morning sun burned and the sounds heralding early light awakened a world, I questioned the graces such a system fostered, and in their wisdom the deities who believed the scales balanced. Fairness, equality; Thedas was far removed from the equivalency of give and take, of equal share and receive. There was no justice, no balance. It was a world of greed and of death. It had only taken this long to realize what everything else had been trying so adamantly to show. So, why was I here?

_What was there to fight for?_

The grind and groan of heavy oak, of hinges needing oil and care, creaks and whines. My gaze slips from the canopy above, to the door and the bustling gawker it surely must be, for Solas and Cole came and went with nary a rustle. However, the noisy clunking and clanking intruder was not a busybody as first thought. Instead, toting a rather cumbersome appearing wooden chest, a human of middling years huffs his way to the near side of the large bed. With a weighty _ka-thunk!_ on the nightstand that set it to rattle something fierce, he deposited his burden, an audible  _pooff_ from between thin lips escaping at being relieved of their taxing load.

"Ah, your Holiness seems much improved --splendid. Then how are you faring today, Inquisitor? Aches, kinks, swelling? Soreness or tenderness in any areas when you move? Joints?" He rumbles off, adding questions here and there as he flipped the lid of his medicine box and rummaged inside with one eye still trained on me as he did so.

The healer was lively, not exactly excited or eager by any means, but there was an aura of enthusiasm to his demeanor and coarse timber, one that did not vanish even as I remained silent and he carried on as though I answered every one of his queries. Fascinated, speculative, infinitely curious and hungry to uncover more and delve deeper into the unknown; that was how the eyes that considered me as I lay unmoving and quiet regarded me. They looked on as though studying and contemplating a specimen in which to learn. As though a previously undiscovered species had been stumbled upon and now they were the first to lay sights on the finding.

It was not of a bad or disrespectful nature, more of an aloof and intrigued scientific sort. I understood that expression well, not only had I worn it on many an occasion, but it was a expression that had arisen on many a student I had sat alongside while in my world. It was perhaps that knowledge, and that sense of similarity that finally brought me to speak. He viewed me with openness and honesty instead of veneration or pity, instead of disgust or fear or greed, he looked at me as if I was merely a curious enigma of a person. And that was why I felt an urge to speak, because I was merely once again a _person_.

"I feel...broken."

Soft, lifeless, hoarse; not even an admittance to the last in a lengthy string of questions that had been carrying on from the healer, but it was the most important, the one that cleared all others, and yet it was the one that he understood the significance of in an instant.

Some of the zeal faded, and a light of kindness colored his gaze in its place as he suspended his search and fully turned. "I am afraid that is something in which I have no cure to offer. Time is the only treatment I can suggest, my dear." He gently puts.

I had no desire to speak, to chat and commiserate with another as though all remained good and right; it was the reason behind the silence and continued wish of solitude --for who would truly care and sympathize --without guile and artifice, but the sparse handful closest to the 'abomination'. And yet he looked on as if I was still human. Human as any other...

"Why?"

_Why could you see?_

_Why could I retain my humanity in your eyes?_

_...why?_

A single shaggy brow arches, before a low sigh passes his lips. With the stiffness attributed to age and fatigue he stoops to tiredly perch on the edge of my coverlet, giving me a light pat in soothing understanding before folding  his hands in his lap with a small admonishing smile.

"Why am I not gathering the skirt of my robes and running for the hills? Tossing sacred oils and suffocating us all in insufferable holy incense?" Chuckling softly. "I suppose it is because I have seen much too much, my dear. Darkspawn, the Blight. Kirkwall and some of the worst atrocities in the name of magic and the might of the sword. And I suppose...it is because I was there as the others of your company were pulled bloodily from the rift," he said with a scratch of his chin thoughtfully. My interest and attention must have shown, for with a wry gleam of humor he continued, "oh, yes, I was witness to your rather -ahem-  unorthodox, entrance. Frightened the buggering knickers from me, truth be told, but sadly, 'tis not the worst I've been stand to see I'm afraid," he remarks, waving a hand negligibly.

"To live as I have lived, and see as I have seen; matters of the miraculous and unimaginable become less of blind faith and more in the belief of cause and effect. They had to be, or I dare say I would not have survived so long," snorting at the last. Noticing my wobbly struggle to sit up, a kindly _tut_ clucks before sure hands slip beneath both armpits, and with a surprising bit of strength, I'm hoisted to lean comfortably against pillows stacked and fluffed nicely behind my back. Ensuring I was suitably situated, he settled back to return to his tale.

"I made the choice to journey to the Inquisition --yes, to help and do my part of course-- but there was also intense curiosity you see. 'What could a being touched by the Heavens _possibly_ need of a healer?' I wondered. Seemed might daft to me," he says with a smile to take some of the sting from his words. "There were days I spotted you or one of your men from afar, bunch of flesh and blood men and women as far as I could see, but you would not know it from the telling of it. But three days ago --three days ago I knew," eyes of a pale moss burned with an inner light, steady and unwavering, as they met mine and would not flinch away. A light infused with integrity and confidence of one's self and their convictions. "I was one of the first to force poultices down your throat --begging your pardon, Inquisitor. You were bleeding something ungodly, uhm, jest not intended, my dear-- and your two companions were having a time of it trying to stay it alone. Others were rushing and scrambling, but it was so quick-" _snap!,_ startling me as he suddenly snapped his fingers in emphasis, "and you were already gone by the time their energy joined the fray."

"Before all present you had died. Andraste's Herald...fallen in righteous combat for our souls."

My gaze skirted from his as I fisted the quilt in my hands, dropping to the tightly clutched fabric in my fingers as though it would somehow stave the inevitable and what I knew must come next. _Demon. Maleficar. Abomination._ Which was I in this man's eyes? I didn't know how it was that I had come to survive, and yet somewhere I knew and believed that somehow --someway, Larry had had a hand in it. Someway --somehow, he had found a way to save the woman who did not deserve such a sacrifice.

But it was this man's next words that brought me back, stunned. "What sort of Divinity requires the aid of poultices and a myriad of Spirit Healers?" He poses reflectively. No longer was his focus on me. Musing and just a touch playful his attention shifted to a far off place none but he could see, and it was a moment before that regard returned where I rested. A solemnity cast shadows on those middling features then, an austere air stealing some of the liveliness that had been a constant facet of this man since clattering his way into my room.

"None," comes the solemn reply, earnest eyes and earnest heart in the head that bowed in somber respect. "None. You were of flesh, and it was of no Holy touch that stole you from the Beyond --though some of its residents may have had a hand." He said offhandedly, a hint of a snort underneath, coloring his voice. "Your, erhm...hairless companion, was given the notion how to revive you. A 'Harry'? -'Yarry'?- 'F-"

"Larry," I correct hoarsely, experiencing the cruel grind of grief at the name.

Again an eyebrow quirks, his opinion of the strange moniker clear. "I see. 'Larry'." It was all he said for the span of a breath, sitting beside me in my sorrow, sharing in its burden in pensive recognition. "In all of my years, I have never witnessed the like. It was perhaps the nearest to a miracle I may know in this world. Lightning conjured to stir a heartbeat. Never would I have thought such a thing, nor believed it possible --neither did your fellow mage by the horror on his face when the boy informed him of the message," he admits in a short laugh.

 _I bet it did_. The picture such a scenario summoned startled a quiet smile of my own to bloom. It was brief, fleeting. And yet it surprised me; the emotion. The act of smiling, even so minuscule, was stiff. A sensation of being cracked and wooden, of having forgotten, as though the muscles were unaccustomed to such displays, holding the emotions of my face and my heart transfixed.              

He must have noticed it, for his fingers squeezed mine in sympathy before leaning away and folding them on his lap once more. "It wasn't by the grace of a divine hand that brought you back, and it wasn't by the whims of the Maker that staved your blood," he says again. "You are of the soil and of the flesh --surrounded so utterly by your men, never more than then could I see that, Inquisitor."

"Though," he adds blithely, "I suppose now that you've returned from the Beyond in such a vivid fashion, that won't dissuade those of the devout from the notion of the sacramental." Giving me an ironic grin at the cockeyed turnabout.

_Ugh._

Robust laughter spills from my visitor, obviously amused by the reaction. "There are worst things to be considered, my dear."

"Try stating that after you've had people bow so hard they face-plant. Being seen as nothing would've been better." I counter sourly.

Still chucking, "because everyone agrees what 'better' means," he says with a shake of his head. Straightening with a snort of lingering humor, he stands, a few joints creaking in a low pop of loosening stiffness. I raise my face to follow him as he moves to gently shut the lid of his medicine box, and with a familiar pat of its top, he turns to where I sedately sat. "I will come again and return to check on you, Inquisitor. If phantom pains or the like should occur, or perhaps trouble finding rest, please send a man to fetch me."

He would have gone then, departed the chamber as he had entered, albeit significantly quieter without the clamber of that chest. However he had shown me genuine kindness, and I would have the name of the man willing to seek the individual beneath the title.

"Who are you? What's your name?"

He paused, palm resting against cold, unyielding metal, half-turning to stare behind. With a casual sway of his head in thought at the demand, he answers, "I have gone by several names through the years --but the men have taken to calling me Harlow, the name appears to have stuck." Shrugging at the outcome, not seeming particularly bothered by their choice.

My eyebrow twitches, hearing a story there, but deciding it wasn't a point to chase. Whatever the reason, his choices and how he has lived were his. As it stood, I had no cause to go digging.

"Harlow..."

"Thank you, I'll remember it."

He blinked, studying me, then with a small incline of his chin he turned and departed, leaving me in solitude and alone within a chamber that had at once become a tomb.


	105. Chapter 105

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics from MC are thoughts and/or English.  
> ENJOY!

"Any news from those rifts beyond reach of the Inquisition?"

"Yes. And it is...not good."

It was routine, these meetings. A short coming together to speak amongst themselves about the trials and tribulations yet ahead, to share in too brief victories and triumphs. It was routine, concise, and yet weariness permeated, almost as though it clung to these walls and had begun to seep into their minds. It lived in their hearts, colored their voices; and never more than now was such a truth apparent to Cassandra as she listened.

Adamant Fortress was seized, the Warden threat contained; however the toll of such a feat...

It was there within the lines of the woman many called Nightingale in the safety of shadow's whisper. The strain, the fatigue. She wore it well, concealed beneath the resolute authority all outside this room witnessed, but here, within the confines of comrades -if not friends, it showed. A slim relinquishment of the mask.    

Cullen carried it too, the traces of worry and gnawing exhaustion. A harrowed paint that adorned his face as a reminder that though things had begun to improve, still the woes drummed. Their Inquisitor; absent, far from whole, and still they would be forced to ask that she lead before she was well. For the Inquisition may hold and withstand strong in this moment, ultimately it would become lost without its Herald to guide it. Her light was the beacon with which the People gathered and followed, without its steadying presence, their purpose would turn astray and become muddled.

They understood this. They _all_ understood this.                                                  

Tired, genteel, "we knew at the start it wouldn't be easy." Cullen voiced. It was true, none had believed the hardships that awaited would prove simple. But neither had they believed would-be gods would sunder the Heavens. More than they could have ever imagined became reality the day the temple fell, and yet, here the Inquisition still stood. Resilient.

"You look as though there is something else. Are you all right, Leliana?" He asked. The muted hush of her regard had yet to wander from the bustle of the courtyard below. Beneath panes of finely cracked glass, Warden and recruit weaved and fussed, in constant activity and flurry since Fates were held aloft, and means of repair given as a way to busy both the hand and the mind. A nest of shattered rubble and shattered trust.  

A sigh left her slight frame, and at last those eyes abandoned their troubled vigil. "Are you?"

Perhaps it was not a question in which he had anticipated as a frown flit across Cullen's brow, and for a brief moment he was quiet, the fingers of his right hand scraping gently over the table's surface in thought.

"I...suppose not."

Leliana turned then, taking graceful steps to lean against a nearby desk. Palms braced behind, eyes soft; she looked on at the man who battled so staunchly against demons, both real and imagined, with sympathy. "You're still concerned." She said.

It deepened, the frown, and the fingers that had been loosely curled fisted tightly. "The consequences from bonding with that Mark-" consciously halting himself, a breath of frustration exhaling. "Never mind." He finishes. Instability, unpredictability. The complete cleansing of hard fought ground, the painstaking beginning of a fresh start. Relearning, rebuilding... How could any good be thought to come from such a thing, callous as these precarious times were?

"That is true, however it may have been worse, Commander." Low, soothing. A melodic lilt of warm cream and Orlesian silk within the heat of a budding mid-morning sun. "The Inquisitor is awake, and improving we're told. She is changed, but her mind has remained intact despite--we could not have asked for better. The days will be hard and it will require our support and careful watch, but I do not see an outcome that someday cannot be turned to something good."

She hesitated, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips as a thought intruded, and she continued with a lightened air. "And do not think I have not noticed the slow change in the men. Your soldiers seem energized lately, Commander." Leliana remarks.

His gaze stared for a moment, as if the shift in conversation was lost before a gradual understanding flickered. With a distracted snort that rocked broad shoulders, he blinked and tipped his head back with an unconvinced sigh. "Templars set high standards for discipline. They set our recruits a good example. When most take the Chantry teachings to heart, it begins to drown the skeptics. Or at least quiet them for a time. Misgivings and talk of demons becomes harder to cling too when someone is reciting scripture in your ear. It makes one question what they really witnessed, what they've heard. It makes them curious."

"Better curious than afraid," Leliana points out, a trace of laughter lurking beneath the claim.

"Until they become nosy enough to see their Inquisitor unable to control magic," Cullen sourly challenges.

Outright amusement now, "you worry too much, Cullen." Leliana chuckled.

A single, sandy brow hikes at the Spymaster's humor. "The thought doesn't bother you?"

"Because, Commander," crossing her arms in relaxed ease, " _we_ have devised a plan." Her smirk teasing, playful. Secretive.

It was Cassandra's cue, and poor Cullen had enough to contend with without tormenting him thus --amusing as it was proving to be. "The Inquisitor will be in Solas' charge while we remain at Adamant, there shouldn't be cause for concern that a second surge will strike. _After_...."

"After," Leliana maintains, taking the unspoken prompt. "I will be accompanying the Inquisitor's return to Skyhold. The hope is without so many watchful eyes, we may be able to help the Inquisitor regain a measure of control."

"Open road and wilderness for miles will certainly increase our odds of being undisturbed --and away from the possibility of harming innocents." Cassandra adds.

"Though the Inquisitor's condition staying undiscovered may be more pressing to current affairs, Cassandra."

Whether her words were to be taken as a suggestion as they appeared or as an order, it was impossible to guess. Leliana's actions had been teetering from calculated to ruthless as of late --however, if Cassandra was honest, it had been much longer than that, ever since Justinia's murder.

Spine stiffening, "one does not exclude the other, Leliana." Cassandra states.

"Let us hope it does not."

Simple, calm. Chilling in its offhandedness. If it came to it, could Leliana be dissuaded from a path she believed wielded the greater good? From her vantage point, Cassandra had to wonder at what time did such excuses as 'greater good' slip and bend into something never intended, become something twisted and vile. It had happened to the Seekers, and she had turned away in answer --she'd be drawn before she allowed Justinia's vision for the Inquisition to be corrupted while she remained. Not if there was something Cassandra could do to prevent it.

"It will not."

The weight of silence; tense, rigid, descended. For fleeting heartbeats two wills clashed in silent battle, as if once again they were merely the Right and the Left of months past.

And wisely Cullen chose to hold his tongue until the moment passed.

~

Feet slink, sneak, snaking. Walking on a glide, close to wolf's track. Step, step, stepping inside grey and cold ruin. Heat rising red and ire-

He blinked, snapped to focus by the whining creak of old and hinges.

Rings, ropes. Knotting, twining on twisted gut. Threads Cole could pluck and pull; but they slunk like a stolen thing when the door was opened, cowering under ceremony and appearances as he entered behind Solas.

Once more they were gathered and called together, returned to the rooms that had unanimously become the Advisors' counsel chambers. Although in this instance, Cole had not specifically been summoned to join their company.

As he hadn't specifically been tasked _not_ to attend, then there was no reason to be concerned if he chose to silently follow and listen of his own volition.

"Good, you're here. We can get started then." False smiles to hide secret's false surety. Why pretend it had not already begun? Cole could trace their lingering cords as three stood looking on, could still-

"I fear there is not much to tell. The Inquisitor remains stable and is still recovering." Solas informs them, a soft clink of the door sounding as he shut it when Cole passed, before moving to a position near their temporary table of war. "Beyond that, there is little by way of assurances I can offer." He paused, a brief moment of hesitation as he thought of his course, then with a dignified clasp of his hands behind him, he stood straight and continued. "As my presence here brings nothing of note, if I may return..."

"Don't sell yourself short. The knowledge you possess has been a great boon to us, Solas." Leliana answers. The warmth was genuine now, dancing in a playful cadence through her light, no longer a forced thing to conceal troubles. "You needn't worry, she is in good hands." She finishes with a nod to join them and have a seat. Instead, he remained as he was while Cassandra strayed from her place against the wall, and the Nightingale's palm that gently lay on the chair's back in preparation halted. Eyes of blue narrow as pride held firm, and the bearing of millennia settled in the carriage that stared unwavering back.

"You do not agree," she says.

A hush; suspended on fugitive heartbeat between Advisor's eyes and Lover's heart. A wordless war of misguided right and misguided doubt.

"I would... _if_ the man were a mere healer. Is it to be believed he is not of your service, Lady Nightingale?"

News --actions that two held no prior knowledge of. They turned to her in silent question, mute bemusement and confused motivations.

"He is," calm...a deadly ruse of civility and silk; a rise of resistance and hardness awakening as the wordless demand for answer from the Right and the Lion are ignored. "Does it matter if his skills lie elsewhere? The man is loyal, and he can be trusted to be discreet."

A low scoff tainted him, the traces of a sneer yet lingering on his lips as Solas challenged, "then perhaps you may indulge me; what use has a spy to reopen raw wounds if not to gain leverage?"

"Maker..." Slowly rising from his seat with an expression of mounting horror. "Have we really come so far that we are having the Herald watched?! There was paranoia at the outset of all this, but..." Shaking his head in disbelief of what their Spymaster had done.

"You said nothing of this to us, Leliana." Cassandra grit. Tightly her fists clenched, an insignificant display of ire compared to the smoldering anger dawning on her face.

A hand raises to stem their objections, the assurance of right's course imbuing a stillness of heart and tranquility of mind where she stood. "Nothing so heinous as that," Leliana corrects. "There seems to be some misunderstanding," she says with an eye on those present, leaning on wood's cool back as the fire of companion's ire continued to burn.

"Clearly you do not trust the word of Lavellan's chosen circle --that is more than a simple 'misunderstanding', Leliana."

"It is not about 'trust', Cassandra." She coldly challenges. "None here have either the skill, nor the knowledge to help the Inquisitor. Meals barely touched, slow improvement despite a lack of physical injury. Are we to ignore the condition of the Herald's mental state as well? Her companion was lost-"

"A friend, Leliana," Cassandra snaps. "He was her friend --murdered, likely in front of her."

"He was a friend," she acknowledges with a nod. "Grief is a natural response to loss, but after what our Herald has endured, can we say for certain that it is all that affects her now? She does not speak, will not see any of her counsel. It is as much a mystery as the Anchor's metamorphosis --a change we have no way of determining to what extent its transformation will alter the Inquisitor, nor the ultimate repercussions such a power will bring to her and this Inquisition. I sought aid for the Inquisitor." Leliana states, her posture straightening as she finished, the hand of her left lightly remaining to rest on the chair's crest as those present are gathered in Secret's sight. "We are _all_ dealing with the unknown --that his talents do not lie solely within the realm of healing does not lessen the benefit his insight will bring."

"I was not mistaken in handing the Inquisitor to more capable hands, regardless of how captious the choice may seem." The brush of unrepentant iron in her voice as a shrug softly rocked a single shoulder.

"...we should have been informed," Cullen pressed.

The blue gaze of a piercing regard coolly leveled on the Templar, silks and secrets whispering in calm depths as a cultured strike ruthlessly thrust true.

"And we are in need of more than the presumptions of a scholar."

~

Cold, lifeless. At once this room had become akin to a sealed tomb as again I was left with nothing save the darkness of my thoughts and the stale desolation of an empty chamber. Riches and comfort, marks of valor and order; they surrounded, and yet the isolation of a bitter cell imbued every stone.

How did one endure it? Exist in such a way, a limbo of seemingly no paths and no futures? And the people, the individuals cursed to watch as helpless observers...

Perhaps the healer Harlow had been correct: there had been no cosmic hand that guided the happenings here. Perhaps the misery and death was all cause and effect and terrible happenstance. Perhaps each modern soul that came before truly had been the victim of misfortune. Perhaps it really was mere luck of the draw...perhaps...

...perhaps.

But I did not truly believe that, not fully. There had been too much --witness to far too much. A keeper of knowledge unfathomable to those of this world, an unwilling and grumpy receiver of coincidences that would have even the most sanctimonious of Chantry Sister's skew their nose in blatant skepticism. I have seen and experienced what it was to challenge events that were paltry in the grand scheme of things, and yet...

And yet I still hoped. Small and minuscule as it had dimmed to be, I still held on to a hope for more.

"hope, huh?" I quietly muse with a weary shut of my eyes, leaning back to softly rest against hard wood of the bed's headboard. "what a fucking bunch of lies." I growl, snapping them open once more. Who would be naive enough to rely solely on such a fickle thing? Stupid, foolish....

Ah, was there bitterness in my heart. Bitterness and suffocating regret. Such emotions that swam alongside guilt in companionable harmony, emotions that I have begun to believe I have become much too accustomed to since the day I awakened within a frigid storeroom.

"as alone as I was then," I snort hoarsely.

I could not say who those words were for; maybe I simply wished to break the deafening silence, or perhaps I simply desired to fill the void of loneliness with the sound of a friendly voice, even if it was merely my own.

Despite the radiant glow of a mid-morning sun that bathed each stone in a warming light, it did nothing to thaw the ice that encapsulated my heart. Left alone, finally looking at possessions and objects that surrounded and were not of my own choosing, I felt it even more keenly, the disjointed disconnect from the world around me. Luxury, authority, the solitary rigidity of leadership. It coated every surface, tainted every piece of adornment, and the cleverly disguised destruction that littered this space was unable to conceal that fact.

I noticed it now; the chips and the frayed tatters on some, the deliberate turning of others to show weathered sides, while still more suffered from obvious removal and replacement in an effort to fill the room and give an appearance of normalcy. Even the walls did not stand unscathed as deep gouges and crumbling mortar peppered  the chamber. Only on initial inspection did the towering windows seem untarnished and whole, but even they carried finely webbed scars that became apparent when one was purposefully searching. The siege of Adamant had broken more than just the trust and hearts of the people of Orlais, and yet giving the superficial impression of power to the space I resided in held more importance to them. Really...how very funny...

Scorn, disdain; neither emotion was readily there, merely...sarcasm. Truly _seeing_ the room for the first time, there was nothing save a sense of irony. Months of being forced to witness what those in Thedas considered as their top priorities had nullified any modicum of surprise when it came to their primary concerns. If pretense and pretending was where they wished to lay their energy, then so be it, I had grown tired of attempting to unravel their constant and convoluted justifications for their choices. But still, why was it so...odd?

There was perhaps more to it than that -a nagging sense this was so whispered at the edges of my mind, but what would it truly matter? Nothing would alter, and nothing would be fixed and made right. In the end, everything would remain unchanged. So I made a decision, possibly the only intelligent one I had made in weeks. I let go. The room, the destruction, every probable ass-backwards reasoning for what people have been doing while I was mourning, all of it. I simply let it go. Such things had never wielded importance, and I'd be damned if I allowed them to gain a foothold now.

The weary breath that passed my lips may have carried the weight of that choice, lifting the burden from my shoulders and permitting me to simply breathe in peace once more, for a budding seed of restlessness bloomed, no longer dormant and so willfully blind to the happenings in the world. I desired to move from this bed, to feel the caress of a fresh breeze across my skin. To bathe. The blood and gore of battle's past had been long sponged away, but the grime and sweat of days locked within the prison of my own body steeped my flesh. It would not wash away the stain that blackened my heart, but it would be the first steps to beginning to clean the darkness in my mind.

The dawning of wants after such an absence of so long, heralded the rising realization of another -or lack thereof. Eyes somehow knowing where to seek, sudden awareness and a wrongness sang through my being at the sight that lay waiting and untouched.

Where was the sense of ravenous thirst clawing at my throat, the sickening churn of hunger gnawing at my belly? Where were the sensations attributed to _any_ living being who'd forgone food and water for days?

They had to be there, they were _supposed_ to be there. The last time a crumb of food or drop of water had passed my lips was before being taken 'prisoner' by the scouts, it was impossible to go so long without feeling _something_. It was impossible.

Impossible...so long as one hadn't become a monster.


End file.
